Snow is Falling
by blueskyblues
Summary: "Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to." Haymitch has always given Effie an odd feeling inside, one that before she couldn't explain until one night when she realizes that it is love. Effie's point of view of Catching Fire. Rated T for language and violence in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"Haymitch Abernathy!" I scream stomping into his living room in Victors Village where he is-I presume-passed out on the once lovely cream wool carpet. This doesn't seem to rouse him so I know that he is still pulled under by last night's alcohol intake which I have to admit doesn't surprise me in the slightest. After years of knowing the despicable man I know well enough that screaming won't work in a situation like this so I make my way across his filthy floor, dodging empty liquor bottles by hopping over them which is quite difficult wearing the shoes I am today; that is the price to pay for good fashion which doesn't matter in the slightest in District 12 however.

I eventually reach his kitchen sink which looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a few months at least, let alone the dishes. I scan the pile of dirty dishes for some sort of container and eventually find a glass which is filled with a liquid one can only assume is alcohol and with closer examination I find that I am correct. I turn on the tap and swill out the drink before filling the glass up to the brim with ice cold water, the good thing about District 12 in the winter is that you are guaranteed cold water which comes in handy when dealing with a drunken fool.

I make my way back over to his sleeping figure half slumped on the sofa and brace myself the verbal abuse and cursing that will no doubt follow; I'm used to it now though so it shouldn't affect me too much. I throw the glass over his head and sure enough he sits up, shocked and dripping wet, his angry eyes glaring at me and trying to replay the events over in his mind. "What the hell sweetheart? Ever heard of a polite good morning?" He moans while running a hand through his hair,

"Have you?" I ask while going back into his kitchen to put the glass back on the worktop.

"I could really do without your annoying high pitched screeching this morning, every noise sounds like a bullet…" He says lying back down in his original position and closing his eyes. I roll my eyes and take off my red leather gloves, placing them on the only clean surface I can which is on top of the mantelpiece that is cluttered with an array of letters and pieces of paper from the past 25 years.

"Oh no you don't!" I say snapping my head around "Today is a big, big, big day!" He opens one eye and looks at me blankly as if searching for an answer; I just stare at him back waiting for him to finally catch on. But he doesn't. "How much did you drink last night Haymitch?" I begin getting gradually louder just to annoy him "today is the first day of the Victory Tour!"

"Ahh yes, the wonderful event that has only happened twice in the whole history of District 12 where the tributes who have already endured the most traumatic experience of their entire life," he begins, standing up and walking towards the mantelpiece where I am stood "are paraded around in front of the grieving families of the children they have brutally murdered all for you Capitol lot to enjoy. You mean that?"

"Well you may not have enjoyed yours too much bu-" I am cut off by his sniggering "Understatement of the century, Princess" he retorts as he makes his way over to the stairs.

"I do wish you wouldn't call me that Haymitch," I moan picking up a dry liquor bottle resting against my- very expensive I might add- gold high heels that match perfectly with my wig that I bought especially for the victory tour "and where exactly are you going?"

"I'm going to get dressed princess – unless you want me to catch pneumonia by going outside without weather appropriate clothing." He says while making his way up the stairs only to receive a death glare.

I huff and make my way towards the door. "Haymitch don't be too late!" I shout before slamming the door, knowing exactly how much pain I am most likely causing his head.

I look around me and notice that camera crews from just about every Capitol station are setting up despite the winter chill and a few manage to grab onto each other before slipping on the ice that I myself am finding a rather difficult challenge. I am, however thoroughly enjoying the snow.

Strange as it may seem I rarely actually see snow, besides on the television. The Capitol hardly ever gets snow; it is always fairly warm throughout the year, even in winter months we barely get anything less than 10ºc. I wish we did get more snow because I love it! The way it cascades gracefully down from the sky and lands on anything it touches creating a frosty winter blanket that sparkles whenever the sun comes out. Beautiful.

I decide to cut across Haymitch's lawn (not that he will mind) to get to Peeta's home which, luckily for me, is only one door down. As I come close to his front door something catches my eye. The president. He leaves Katniss' house with a man following closely at his heels before getting into the back of a shiny black car and driving off down the road towards the station. I decide against going to see Katniss now as she isn't really the talkative type at the best of times let alone when the president of Panem has just paid you a visit.

I push the brass door handle down and step inside out of the freezing cold and into the complete anarchy. Peeta is sat in an armchair trying to drink hot chocolate while his prep team fuss around trying to make sure that every inch of him looks perfect and trying to stop him from drinking to prevent spilling all over the light dress pants and blue shirt. Portia is talking to a man who I can only assume is here to take some shots of Peeta's wonderful paintings for his talent. I cannot even begin to contemplate what Katniss has chosen as her talent; she doesn't strike me as the kind to be a professional flower arranger.

The door shuts with an unexpected bang making me jump and everyone else stop what they are doing and look towards the source of the noise. I mouth a sorry and they all go back to what they were doing originally.

I make my way over to Peeta who is currently having his hair fussed over by an anxious woman with bright purple locks fashioned into the shape of a flower on top of her head. "Hello Peeta, how are you?" I coo bending down and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, fine thank you," he smiles being given a mirror to look at his hair in before nodding to the man on his left "And yourself?"

"Oh yes fine, a little busy, but well thank you." I smile at how lovely and polite the young man sat before me is, despite the utter hatred he should probably have against the Capitol. "I'm just going over to see Katniss and check on the arrangements." I say and Peeta gives me a small smile before going back to his hot chocolate. I clamber my way across his floor that is filled with a multitude of wires, boxes, clothes hangers and goodness knows what else. As I push open the door again I am greeted by the frosty nip of winter. I don't know how everyone here in district 12 keeps warm, especially without heating or warm clothes, I really do feel for them all.

I decide to walk across the path this time as Peeta's garden is considerably better than Haymitch's (though it doesn't take much) and it really does look lovely, even in the winter. I am almost at Katniss' door when my foot hits a patch of ice and before I have time to grab anything I am falling to the ground. I land on my backside and wonder if I will be able sit down for the next week; I grimace when I try to stand and realise that will probably be the case. "Dammit!" I shout rather loudly as a stabbing pain shoots up my spine, risking the rest of the district hearing.

"Whoa! Princess has a mouth on her!" Haymitch laughs from behind me. I turn my head to face him and see that he is indeed laughing at me. I spin round on the floor, my legs getting rather cold, "can you please stop laughing at me and help me up?" I ask outstretching an arm, my patience with him wearing extremely thin today. "Haymitch!" I shout when he still doesn't move. He contemplates this for a moment before grabbing my wrist and yanking me from the ground "word of advice, sweetheart. Next time you come to district 12 when it's cold," He says, looking me up and down "wear something more weather appropriate."

And with that he turns and walks towards Peeta's house stepping over the small green hedgerow separating the two houses.

I purse my lips and before I know what I'm doing I pick up a handful of snow and send it hurtling in his direction hitting him right in the back of the head. I bite my lip, suppressing a laugh as he stops in his tracks and turns round showing a look, a compilation of amusement, shock and anger. I smile at him and turn round, carefully dodging the ice, and making my way towards Katniss' house but as I do so I am hit in the back of the neck with something cold. I turn round to the direction in which it came and see Haymitch stood with his hands in his pockets looking round innocently which unfortunately backfires as he is the only person stood outside now. "Haymitch Abernathy!" I yell stomping towards him "Effie Trinket!" He shouts just as loud in a mock Capitol accent. I walk right up to him and try to stare him square in the eye but even with high heels on he is still about a foot taller than me so any attempt at anger usually ends with him insulting my height in some way. "Why in Gods name did you do that?" I say lowering my voice a little as to not attract attention

"What! You started it!"

"You sound like a child..." I say folding my arms and looking away

"You act like one..." he says with a smirk and I unfold my arms and look right back into his steel grey eyes. I slap him on the arm but his smile just widens. "Excuse me, but what is so funny?" I say genuinely annoyed

"You're just cute when you're angry." Wait. What? Cute?

"Cute wasn't really the look I was going for..." I say a little peeved. "Oh and what was that exactly?" he says cocking his head to the side "Capitol clown? Or maybe-" he draws out the 'e' and pauses for a moment "Effie the red-nosed escort?"

"I do not have a red nose!" I snap almost immediately but he's to busy laughing to notice "oh yes you do!"

What? I begin to rummage through my purse to find my compact mirror, I take it out and flip it open examining my face. To my dismay I discover that he is indeed right. I woke up this morning with a bit of a snuffle and I suspect the cold weather can't be helping. I close down the lid and purse my lips glancing around me. "Is it-"

"Yes, it is."

"You don't even know what I was going to say-"

"Yes I do. You were going to say 'is it that noticeable' and my reply is yes, it is." He says obviously satisfied "maybe you should go powder your nose again or whatever Capitol crap you use to make yourself look _completely _in-human." I scowl at him and bend down, my fingers dig into a pile of snow by the side of the path and I curse myself instantly for not picking my gloves back up off the mantelpiece.

I get a good two fistfuls and standing back up, dump them straight on top of Haymitch's head. He glares at me but I just smile and walk away completely satisfied. "Not very ladylike!" He shouts after me but I just roll my eyes and walk into Katniss' house.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yay I remembered today! I can't thank everyone enough for the feedback etc. I was sat in my room crying with happiness last night! Anyway as promised here is chapter 2, it's a bit of a short one but I might update again today if I finish chapter 3 but anyway, enjoy!**

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"We're on schedule!" I announce proudly as I step into Katniss' house which, understandably, is busier than Peeta's.

I make my way over to where she is stood alongside Cinna, kiss both of her cheeks and wave over a camera crew to take some shots of her outfits and designs which I presume is her talent. I gently push her towards the table where most of her designs are laid and she begins to talk into the camera.

I can't help but notice how unlike Katniss this all is as she flits around the table holding up outfits saying things like "don't you love it?" and "isn't it just beautiful?" this makes me smile as I thought that acting happy for once was beyond her capability.

I move to sit down in an armchair and out of the corner of my eye I see Katniss' sister and her mother talking, every so often gesturing in my direction. I avert my gaze as they begin to walk towards me, little Primrose following closely at her mothers heels, "would you like some tea Miss Trinket?" Mrs Everdeen says not looking me directly in the eye but to some unknown point just past me. "No thank you," I say "and please call me Effie." I add with a smile, earning one from Mrs Everdeen. She walks back towards the kitchen but to my surprise her daughter doesn't follow.

She stands before me ringing her hands together and glancing around awkwardly "I like your dress" She mutters looking down to the floor. I am taken aback by this comment as I am not really used to having my clothing complemented especially not from a little girl who's premature death certificate I almost signed last year. A pang of guilt rushes through me but I quickly cover it with a smile. "And I like yours," I state taking in her sky blue dress and white boots "now that your sister is a victor maybe we can get some fabric from the Capitol for you, do you sew?" I ask

"No not really, I've only ever sewn up a wound before when there was a mine accident, does that count?" She inquires scrunching her face up slightly. This makes me cringe, why should someone so young be subjected to such horrors?

And then it hits me square on in the chest. Every year I lead children to their brutal death, parading them around like they're some fancy new toy. I myself am a monster.

I repudiate the idea quickly, feeling sick to my stomach, and glance back up to Primrose who is still looking for an answer. "How different can it be?" I say brightly rising from my seat, the corners of her mouth forming a smile. "Miss Everdeen, you are needed for an interview." says a man gesturing towards the kitchen. She smiles back at me as she is led away and I can't help but return the gesture. I sigh contentedly before stepping toward the front door ready to face the cold once again.

I clap my hands to get everyone's attention and I notice Katniss walking out of the kitchen bundled up in a fur coat and red scarf with her signature mockingjay pin attached to the front.

"Attention, everyone! We're about to do the first outdoor shot, where the victors greet each other at the beginning of their marvellous trip." I shout above the noise in the room. I gesture for Katniss to come towards the door and she does looking a little apprehensive, "All right, Katniss, big smile, you're very excited, right?" I say enthusiastically, shoving her out of the door.

I almost shove her again when she stops just outside her door, lost in thought. I step out into the cold after her and instantly notice that the snow is considerably heavier than before. I look back to Katniss to see she is walking in Peeta's direction, no not walking, running. She launches herself into his arms and before I know it they are on the floor kissing fervently.

I laugh lightly to myself at the intensity of the kiss and can't help but feel proud of these tributes. My tributes. Theirs is the kind of love that can't be faked, exaggerated and the kind that doesn't fall apart at the seams.

I try to recall the last time I felt that _truly _in love with someone but I can't. Being from the Capitol, and relatively famous, I have had my fair share of meaningless flings but never anything completely serious. The thing I want more than anything is to settle down and have a family all to myself, and geese. I'm not too sure why geese but ever since I fed them for the first time in the park back home they have just kind of clicked with me. In a sense I suppose they sort of remind me of me; noisy and constantly flapping about. I smile to myself at the thought but am brought out of my thoughts by the man I can definitely _not_ see myself ending up with.

"Are you going to stand out in the cold all day because in case you haven't noticed, we have a train to catch." Says Haymitch from my side before taking off down the path after the kids. I roll my eyes and follow behind.

The short car journey to the station is spent in a slightly awkward silence. Me sat next to Haymitch and opposite Katniss and Peeta who give each other adoring glances now and again. I think Peeta senses that something is on Katniss' mind so occasionally pats her hand reassuringly which earns a weak smile.

Once we arrive at the station we are all transferred from the car to the train in a blur of cheering district citizens, peacekeepers and snow.

The train is well heated and there are hot drinks and food laid out across the tables in the dining compartment. I take a cup of black coffee and sit in one of the cerulean velvet lined chairs gazing out of the window and taking occasional sips of coffee as final checks are made and the train begins to pull out of district 12.

I look to my right and see Haymitch swan past me towards the bar car, I roll my eyes and look around for Katniss and Peeta but as they are nowhere to be seen I expect that I will probably not see them until dinner.

I look out of the window and watch as the last of district 12 runs away along with the sun.

I lift the cup to my lips but realise that it is empty so place it back on the saucer. When I glance back to the dining table I see that some Capitol attendants and avox's are setting up for dinner so I decide to head back to my cabin to freshen up. I quickly pass through the bar car, the smell of liquor filling my nose and notice Haymitch in his normal drunken stupor.

I sigh and unlock the door to my room, the smell of liquor replaced with floral perfume. I place my bag and coat on the back of the chair in front of the dressing table and apply a little extra powder to my face and some deep red lipstick.

I rap on Katniss and Peeta's doors for dinner and eventually we are all sat round the table, just like last year.

Katniss almost attacks the lamb stew but I am glad to see she has still remembered her table manners. I begin to eat my potatoes but all I can think about is the victory tour, if everything will go as planned and without any hiccups.

"Effie" Katniss says, to my utter disgust, with a mouth full of food bringing me out of my thoughts and making me jump slightly. I look up from my plate and notice that Cinna and Portia have left the table. "Yes?" I reply.

"Well, me and Peeta have been talking this afternoon..." she trails off and glances over to Peeta who is smiling secretly to himself. She also begins to smile in a mischievous sort of fashion and now I know I will definitely not like what will come next. "We don't know how to dance," she blurts out of no where making Peeta smirk "and what with the victors ball coming up soon..." I glance over to Haymitch who is also looking confused, lifting a spoonful of pea soup into his mouth.

"Go on" I say flatly

"Well, we were hoping that you might be able to teach us how to dance."

I sigh with relief. "All right then, one of you go and fetch Cinna and I will show you." I say brightly

"That's the thing," says Peeta smiling "Cinna and Portia are very busy organizing the clothes for the tour." I suddenly realize why they were both laughing and my heart sinks down to my stomach. I have to teach them to dance with Haymitch Abernathy.

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**A/N Haha Effie's gonna have fun ;) Just another thing I need to say is that I won't update this often all the time because I'm in year 10 so things are getting pretty busy but I promise I will update at least once a week because I love you guys too much :) ~ H x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Oh my gosh, I'm soooooo sorry! I know you guys have been waiting so here is chapter 3. it's not my best and I have had AWFUL writers block but anyway here you go...**

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"What? No! Absolutely not!" Haymitch gets up to leave nearly tipping the mahogany table and all of the food onto the floor. I guess he figured it out too. "Haymitch! You can't just leave the table without excusing yourself!" I call after him getting up from my own seat

"Why not? You just did." He smirks turning back towards me. I roll my eyes "Stop being childish"

"Says the one who dumped snow on my head and also, I believe we've already had this argument today so if you'll _excuse me_, a bottle of white liquor and I had this pretty good thing going before dinner." He begins to walk towards the door again but I stop him "Haymitch can I talk to you for a minute."

I pull him out into the small corridor linking the two carriages of the train together just outside the door. "Right, what do you want? I've already said I'm not doing it." Haymitch states matter of factly.

"Haymitch" I begin

"Effie"

I sigh and continue "do you think I'm stupid?"

"Do I have to answer that question?"

I sigh again and place my hands on my waist "do you think I don't know about the rumours, the whispers?"

"What rumours?" he asks looking confused

I glance round me to make sure no one is listning,"the rumours of rebellion Haymitch."

His face suddenly grows hard and he looks almost sober "how did you-"

"How did I know? What does it matter? I know." I say raising my voice a little

"Effie you shouldn't know about that," He raises his voice but then closes his eyes for a moment and pauses "you're putting yourself in danger."

"I don't care. I think that the least we can do is help these kids out after what they've been through and what they are _about_ to go through. We need to be careful and make sure that Katniss, Peeta, you and me are on steady ground. We need to make sure that we are in the favours of all the people that know, like me. We need to make them like us because if we don't, and the rumours are true, then they will stay and fight on the wrong side in this war and guess who the first people the Capitol will come after are if it does happen? Us. So all we can do is pretend like you, me Peeta and Katniss don't know about it and seem as innocent as possible."

"But they don't know anyway, do they?" he says, his voice full of concern.

"I sincerely hope not because they don't need to get caught up in all this." I say a little more calmly

"So you're saying that the Capitol will like us if they know how to dance."

"Have you listened to a word I just said?"

"Yes I have, and I agree but I don't see how dancing is going to help." He says, raising his voice slightly

"Because it will make them seem almost oblivious if they are dancing round like- well, two kids in love. Without a care in the world."

"Fine. I'll do it but I'm gonna have to be pretty drunk first, I haven't danced since-" his face saddens

"I know." I say almost apologetically "just don't knock yourself out okay?"

"No promises there Princess." He says with a smile.

I roll my eyes but make no effort to stop him as I know it would be pointless.

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We all end up back in the dining car with the tables and chairs pushed up against the wall, thanks to the kids. "Right lets get this over with" sighs Haymitch walking in from the corridor. "I don't have the plague Haymitch." I sigh taking the last sip of wine that I've been drinking over the few hours that Haymitch has spent drinking himself into his habitual drunken stupor. Katniss plonks down in one of the chairs and fiddles with the high heels she will be wearing for the victory tour.

In consolation for the dancing lesson I made her wear a pair of shoes suitable for dancing in.

"Right come on then!" I say gesturing for the kids to stand. Katniss looks extremely uncomfortable as she walks over to the middle of the room.

"All right, we'll start at the beginning." I say cheerfully

"Might be useful" retorts Haymitch and I scowl at him.

I start by teaching them the basic hold and then move onto the footwork. I'm not sure that the kids are doing it badly to get on my nerves or they genuinely have two left feet.

The next dance I show them is a dance that has originated in the Capitol and will most likely be performed when we get there.

"For fucks sake! Do we really have to do another one?" Haymitch moans

"Haymitch, language!" I yell "yes we do... Now to begin this dance – Peeta you need to take hold of Katniss' waist and Katniss you put your hand on his shoulder." They both obey and smile secretly to each other. I wonder what they're up to. "Haymitch, can you just co-operate. Please. Now put your hand on my waist." I sigh when he doesn't move. "Haymitch! Hand. Waist. Now!" I almost yell, I swear if that man doesn't move in a minute I wi- I'm cut off mid thought when he actually puts his hand on my waist. He actually listened to me.

"Now, just put your hand in mine-" I say regaining my composure

"No way-"

"Do I need to remind you that we are, in fact, on a train? And once your precious alcohol is gone, _it's gone. _So if I were you I would just do what I've told you to do to avoid an unfortunate accident. Okay?"

I can see him run this over in his mind before taking my hand. Some emotion flickers across his face but it leaves as fast as it comes and I can't tell what it is. Probably disgust. Charming.

We continue to show Katniss and Peeta the rest of the dance involving some rather awkward confrontations and getting a little too close for comfort to my drunken colleague. I can feel his eyes on me so I either look at the floor or the kids, occasionally glancing up to see if I am correct and I find that I am.

I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks so I look down to the floor feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. _Are my hands sweaty? Has he noticed I'm blushing? Can he hear what I'm thinking? No of course he can't hear you, silly girl. _I can now feel my heart thumping heavily in my chest and I must be breathing faster because all I can feel is my dress getting tighter. "Effie are you okay?" I look across to Peeta and smile, though I am definitely _not _okay. "Yes, I- I erm - I just need to sit down that's all." I close my eyes once I have found a chair and bring a hand up to my forehead. Why am I feeling like this? What's wrong with me?

"Peeta would you be a dear and fetch me a glass of water?"

"No, whisky." Haymitch cuts in, sitting down in a chair across from me and I shoot him a look.

"Water-" I correct

"Whisky." He says again and Peeta leaves the room looking confused, closely followed by Katniss.

We sit in silence, me still trying to return my heart rate to normal until I can't take it any more. "Thank you." I say plainly, still looking out of the window as I have been for the past minute or so. I think this takes him aback for a moment as it takes him a while to respond. "What for?" he says just as flatly as me. "For the dancing." I say looking away from the window and over to him. "Well I was gonna do it... you threatened my alcohol." I laugh lightly and shake my head. "You should laugh more you know," he says after a pause and I laugh again

"Why?" I smile

"It suits you." I bite my bottom lip though I am smiling uncontrollably and shake my head.

"You'd be quite pretty if you took all of that shit off your face and that sheep off your head." he says gesturing towards me. I blush and look down at my hands neatly folded in my lap. "And I think you would be quite the gentleman if you were sober once in a while. You can be charming when you want to be and when your not busy insulting me." I say, a smile creeping onto my face.

"Ahhhh" He says as though he has just come up with some ingenious thought.

"What?"

"That's why you felt faint all of a sudden. I never knew I had that effect on women." He grins cockily and I throw the cushion from my chair at him. It just misses his head though he catches it anyway. I start laughing again and go over to retrieve my cushion.

I walk over to the side of his chair and outstretch my hand waiting for him to give me the cushion back. He doesn't. "Sweetheart, why should I give you back this cushion? After all, you did throw it at my head." he tilts his head to the side.

"Haymitch give me the cushion back." I moan leaning over his chair slightly as he holds it just further out of my grasp.

"No" He grins, infuriating me even more than before.

"Haymitch give it to me. Now!" I lean over even further holding out my hand as far as humanly possible. He continues to do this until I can't physically lean over any further. "Haymitch!" I yell, but as I do so, I trip over his foot and end up awkwardly in his lap. We stare at each other for a minute not knowing what to do.

"We bought bot- oh are we interrupting something?" says Peeta from the doorway, taking a few steps back when he sees the two of us. "No, no. Just tripped, that's all." I say covering it up with a fake smile as I cross the room and take both glasses from him. I walk back over to the table in front of Haymitch and place down the glass of water in front of him. "You know, I think I would prefer whisky after all." I smile at him, pull the cushion from his grasp and make my way down the train to bed.

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**Thank you for reading! Please continue to review! **

**much love ~ H x**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Oh my goodness! I'm sooooooooooo sorry! I know it's been ages but I just want you guys to know that I would NEVER ditch this fic, I love you guys too much :) it's just been crazy, we got a new laptop so all the files had to be transferred and yeah… it took a while and then I've had so much homework and also this chapter took me ages to write. But anyway here is the long awaited chapter 4 lol…..**

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When I wake the next morning, the sun is streaming through the pathetic excuse for curtains. I moan and roll over almost hitting my head on the bedside table; I lift my hand up and tilt the clock so I can see it from where I am lying.

6:27am.

Perfect, I can get up and dressed just in time for breakfast. I unwillingly manage to drag myself from the cosy realms of my bed and meander over to the window. I pull back the curtains, my eyes instantly closing as the bright white sun bathes the whole room in light. I only remember that I am on a train to district 11 when I see the lengths of crop fields passing by the window at a rapid rate. I sit on the edge of my bed just watching the miles of fields, orchards and workers pass, the whole landscape like a patchwork quilt.

Eventually I tear my eyes away from the beautiful landscape and walk over to the closet, opening the doors and seeing the array of dresses – just as bright as district 11. I have quite cleverly selected my outfits to match each district so, for example; a blue and green dress for district 4 and a silver dress for 3. I grab the hanger with the gold and orange dress draped across and then the gold shoes to match.

Once I am dressed and prepared I make my way down to the dining car. To my surprise I see Katniss already sat at the table still wearing her dressing gown but eating a piece of toast looking like she is lost in some deep thought.

"Good morning." I say brightly only to be answered with a mumble. I take a bowlful of fruit and sit opposite Katniss at the mahogany table. "Anymore high heels today?" she says after a few minutes silence between the two of us making me laugh lightly. "Well, I don't know you'll have to ask Cinna," I smile, getting one in return. "However, one thing I do know you're getting today is the full works from your prep team." The look on her face is priceless and she lets out a groan.

"Why? It's too cold for anything to show," She grumbles, tearing off another piece of toast.

"Not in District 11," I say brightly. Katniss looks back over her shoulder at the landscape and seems as lost in it as I was only minutes before.

"Where's everybody else?" She asks when she turns her head back to the table.

"Oh, who knows where Haymitch is," I say. Haymitch. I feel a little flutter in the pit of my stomach but I ignore it and carry on speaking. "Cinna was up late working on organizing your garment car. He must have over a hundred outfits for you. Your evening clothes are exquisite. And Peeta's team is probably still asleep."

"Doesn't he need prepping?" She asks, a hint of jealously in her tone.

"Not the way you do." I reply. After another awkward silence, Cinna enters the car looking understandably tired and tells Katniss that her prep team are also tired but ready for her. She gets up and exits, leaving me alone in the dining car with nothing but the sights of district eleven accompanying the train on its long and tiresome journey. I realise, when he doesn't come, that I have the delightful job of rousing Haymitch from his drunken stupor.

I make my way down the train to Haymitch's room and after knocking a few times, decide that it is probably going to be more productive if I just walk in and hope he is decent. "Haymitch, I'm coming in so you'd better be presentable." I give him a warning through the door, not that he has probably heard it. When I push down on the handle I am met by probably one of the biggest shocks of my life. Haymitch is stood in front of the mirror in a dark navy suit with a matching waistcoat and indigo tie. He has actually got dressed without persuasion and/or shouting.

"I thought I might as well make an effort. After all, I won't be going on another one of these." He says, unsuccessfully tying the tie round his neck. I cross the room and take the tie from round his neck and place it round mine. He watches as I tie it swiftly and efficiently round my own neck and hand it back to him in a perfect knot. "Where'd you learn to do that? I know Capitol fashion is weird but I never imagined women walking round in suits and ties." He says placing it back round his neck and tightening it accordingly.

"No, but I've had my fair share of boyfriends believe it or not." I say matter of factly

"It's hard to." He says smirking and I slap him on the arm lightly though I am smiling myself.

"Right, come on. Victory tours don't organise themselves you know." I say hurrying him along.

"Right, right I'm coming." He says hurriedly and I can't help but think how weird he's acting, especially seen as A. he hates work. B. he hates me and C. he hates mornings.

I brush it off and we end up in one of the smaller cars discussing various elements of the victory tour. The timing, the parties, the outfits, the ceremonies, the dinners. The list is endless and we just about get everything covered before lunch. "Right, I don't know about you princess but my stomachs talking to me." He says patting his belly. I roll my eyes but also feel hungry so we go to lunch early.

Katniss and Peeta are already sat at the table and looking fabulous and shortly we are joined by Cinna and Portia. We all tuck in to the wonderful meal laid out in front of us and talk about anything to pass the time. Weather, outfits, planning and other small talk fill our conversation but I think everyone notices that Katniss is a little quieter than usual so we try to include her as much as possible only to get replies of nods, shrugs or undecipherable muttering.

We are just talking about the wonderful outfits that Cinna and Portia have slaved away on throughout the past few months, when one of the train's staff comes into the room and awkwardly addresses us. "Ladies and gentlemen we will not only be stopping for fuel but a vital part of the engine has malfunctioned and needs to be replaced. The operation won't take too long – approximately one hour and we shall be back on track to arrive in district 11 this afternoon. Thank you." He says and exits just as quickly as he arrived.

Back on track. Back on track?! How can we possibly get 'back on track' if we are already off it. I pull out my schedule and begin scrawling things down. Working out how one hour could affect the entirety of the tour because I can guarantee – it will!

I don't realise I have been thinking out loud until I am brought out of my thoughts by Katniss who speaks for the first time in the entirety of lunch. "No one cares, Effie!" She snaps, a look of complete rage on her face. They don't call her the girl on fire for nothing. "Well, no one does!" she says, and gets up and leaves the dining car.

"Do you want me to go?" Haymitch asks after an awkward silence.

"No, it's alright I'll go." Offers Peeta getting up and following behind.

We spend the rest of the meal in silence, the only sound metal on china. After a while Peeta and Katniss join us again and Katniss apologises graciously, not only to me but to everyone on the table. I accept and thank her for her apology before they leave the car again.

I bustle about for the rest of the afternoon making sure everything is in order for the first stop on the victory tour.

I don't often attend the victory tours in the Capitol, though I am usually invited the party at the presidents mansion I never attend. I have been to one, maybe two victory tours in my life. The 64th, I think, and one that I can remember clear as day. The 50th. After Haymitch had won, I begged for my mother and father to let me go to the square and see him in the flesh. Being only seven, they were reluctant but being the only daughter they couldn't refuse. I remember sitting on my fathers shoulders and looking out above the crowds of the Capitol and onto the paved avenue that he was about to come down any minute. The crowd cheered and he came into sight. I thought at the time how different he looked when he wasn't in an arena fighting for his life. I waved manically almost wetting myself from excitement, grinning from ear to ear when he looked me in the eye and waved back. It was then really that I knew what I wanted to be. I wanted to work as an escort for district 12. I wanted to work with him, the handsome young victor.

I thought it would be fun at the time, being one of the faces of the games especially while I was dating Seneca Crane through high school. But hell, how wrong I was. I remember the first time I lost both my tributes, Thalia and Talon, in the bloodbath and I cried for hours on end. Each year it has become harder to watch but now I have not only one, but two victors and I couldn't be prouder of them.

It is not until I look at the look at the clock that I realise I have whittled away almost the whole afternoon. I get Katniss and Peeta together in one of the compartments and go through the schedule of the day.

I see the sight I have been waiting almost all day to see. The station. I allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief as we gather near one of the doors which will soon open onto the streets of district 11. I have never been here before but Haymitch has, so I look over to him and see the sadness in his eyes. I look away before he sees me staring but he catches my gaze anyway so I offer him a sympathetic smile before we are bustled out of the train and into the balmy, summer like air of district 11.

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**A/N: Phew! Lol we finally got there haha. Again, 1000 apologies and thank you's for all your amazing feedback and reviews! I promise I will try to update more frequently. I can't help but feel this chapter is a little rushed so I'm sorry if you see it that way but thank you anyway and continue to review etc.**

**Love you all ~H x **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter has taken me a little longer than preferred to upload but I've been busy practicing for my grade 5 piano exam which I did today (didn't go too well but hey!) so here is chapter 5!**

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When the steel grey doors open, there is no welcoming committee on the platform, just a group of peacekeepers who direct us in to the back of an armoured truck.

"Really, you'd think we were all criminals."I frown as the doors clank shut behind us. Well really it's just me that isn't, I think to myself. Luckily the journey from the station to the Justice building is short and just about bearable and soon, we are greeted by the sultry air of District 11 but only briefly as we are soon ushered in to the back of the decaying building.

We pass a door which can only be a kitchen due to the heavenly smells emitting throughout the corridor, making me feel instantly hungry again. We are guided through a multitude of rooms, corridors and passage ways, all of which showing the true beauty of the once compelling building. We are led to a room that must be at the front of the building and on the ground floor as two towering doors made from rosewood stand before us with two peacekeepers stationed at either side. I look at the ornate clock on the wall and see that the mayor should be just about finished introducing the ceremony and when I listen to the slightly muffled sound of the microphone outside, I find I am correct.

An attendant swiftly clips microphones to Katniss and Peeta and leads them towards the door. "Big smiles!" I say excitedly as I nudge them forward and there feet start moving outside into the cheering crowds. Someone turns the television on and the cheers become twice as loud. I move to one of the threadbare arm chairs and position myself comfortably, which is harder than it sounds, so that I can see the screen.

"…Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, this year's victors." Concludes the mayor and two small girls, each with dark skin and hair, present them with a beautiful bouquet of orange and yellow flowers. The mayor moves to sit in the chair to the side of the podium and the camera shows the two families of the dead tributes, Rue and Thresh, as Peeta speaks out the scripted reply from the Capitol and then the personal comments I helped him and Katniss write.

"I think I speak for both of us when I say this… Thank you. Thank you for your brilliant children. Because without them, we wouldn't be stood before you all today." He pauses for a moment, looking over to Katniss who smiles and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I knew neither Thresh nor Rue personally but I knew that they were both courageous and brave people. They kept Katniss alive - thereby also saving me, and for that we are eternally grateful. This is a debt we can never repay." He stops again and furrows his brow, lost in a thought. "It can in no way replace your losses," He begins and I instantly begin to panic as this wasn't written on the card. "But as a token of our thanks we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings each year for the duration of our lives."

I gasp and bury my head in my hands. Now they're most certainly in trouble. When I decide to emerge again, the mayor is presenting them with a large wooden plaque reading,

'Congratulations from District Eleven'

Katniss is staring thoughtfully down at Rue's family although she is about to say something. And she does. She stumbles forward asking the crowd to wait, not that they are going anywhere anyway. "I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District 11," She says looking down to the two women on Thresh's side. "I only ever spoke to Thresh one time. Just long enough for him to spare my life. I didn't know him, but I always respected him. For his power. For his refusal to play the Games on anyone's terms but his own. The careers wanted him to team up with them from the beginning, but he wouldn't do it. I respected him for that." The elderly woman whom I presume is his grandmother raises her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. The crowd is silent and listening intently to Katniss as I imagine the rest of Panem to be.

"But I feel as if I did know Rue," She turns her head to the significantly larger family, all who are looking down at the ground, lost in sorrow. "And she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow behind my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister Prim." She is on the verge of tears, as am I. "Thank you for your children. And thank you all for the bread." She finishes.

Everyone in the crowd remains stationary and there is no sound to be heard until somewhere in the crowd, someone whistles. I immediately recognise it as the four- note call used by both Katniss and Rue in the arena. Then, as if on cue, each person in the crowd presses their three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then extends them to Katniss. The same sign from last year's reaping. We all exchange worried glances before looking back at the screen only to see that the feed has been cut off and all that plays now is static. We can all hear the muffled sounds of Peacekeepers through the door probably regaining control of the crowd.

We all look over to the door, expecting to see Katniss and Peeta walk through at any moment. That is until a loud bang comes from the other side of the door. "What was that?" I say jumping to my feet. "A gun." Haymitch replies, standing and almost instantly and I begin to panic.

"No, i-it can't have been. Don't be ridiculous." I say my voice shaking. Who was it? Katniss? Peeta? I am now in full blown panic mode and begin pacing the worn carpet to try and settle my nerves.

The door opens and in walks Katniss and Peeta and instantly, I breathe a sigh of relief though I am still on edge. "What happened?" I walk hurriedly over to where they are stood, frozen and their faces tight. "We lost the feed after Katniss's beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!" I am on the verge of hyperventilating when Peeta finally speaks up "Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired," Says Peeta evenly, though I wish he had said it a little later as it might have stopped the next two shots ring throughout the room. "Both of you. With me." Says Haymitch, leading Katniss and Peeta up the elegant curved marble staircase. Good. More secrets.

"Cinna and I are going to put the finishing touches to tonight's evening wear." Says Portia with a smile. I nod and they too descend the marble staircase.

I am left alone in the large room, like on too many occasions. I consider my options as I figure I won't see anyone until dinner. 1. I stay put. 2. I go back to our assigned quarters. Or three, my slightly preferred option, I go and do some exploring.

When I was little I used to love exploring. Inside, outside – anywhere really. I remember my mother used to say 'don't go too far' and 'you'll ruin your dress!' but I never listened. I knew she disapproved greatly, especially when I ran around other people's houses when we were at parties or invited round, but truthfully I don't think anyone minded.

I look around me and eventually decide on the door two to my left. I press my ear to the door, listening for any sound that would tell me I would be invading on anyone else's privacy. In a sense I suppose this is the height of bad manners but for once in my life I genuinely don't care. After all there is no one around to judge. I hear nothing so push down on the curved brass door handle, the door opening with a fairly loud groan. I look around me one more time to make sure I am not seen before I walk in, closing the door as quietly as possible behind me.

The room is large, extremely large. The ceiling is at least six meters high and adorned with old paintings of fruit, flowers and other beautiful things. Small wooden cherubs look down into the centre of the room from all angles. I continue walking across the red and brown threadbare carpet to one of the enormous marble fireplaces. I run my hands across its cold surface and across the intricately carved patterns weaving all over the marble. I look up at the mirror that goes all the way up to the ceiling and outlined with a golden metal.

I am shocked that the building is so grand despite District 11 being one of the poorest districts closely followed by 12.

I turn and see a dark wooden grand piano sat in the middle of the room, the lid open and the keys exposed to dust. I wonder how long it has been since someone played it. I move over to it and run the tip of my finger across the ebony and ivory keys leaving me with a rather dusty finger. I wipe it on the bottom of my dress and hope that no one sees it.

I sit down on the red velvet stool and pull it under resting my hands on the cold keys. I haven't played since I was about 15 so I don't remember any songs or bright melodies that might light up the dark room. I touch one of the white keys sending the sound around the room. I smile to myself and play another one until I am playing a random tune with my right hand and accompanying it with the occasional note in my left. I stop when I hit a chord that ends it nicely and smiling; I rise up out of the seat and turn around.

I jump when I see a man stood behind me. He's the mayor of the district.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to interrupt you. I was just admiring the building and I got carried away and-" I trail off feeling a little embarrassed. He smiles which calms me a little considering I thought he would be pretty mad at me. "No need to apologise. That piano hasn't been played in years and you did it justice." He says and I look down at the floor.

"Thank you. I haven't played in years and I'm not too sure why I chose to break that streak today." He smiles again. After a long pause I excuse myself. "I will just be on my way now." I say moving back towards the door but he says something before I manage to open it. "You watch yourself, won't you?" At first I don't know what he means but then I figure he's talking about the rebellion that is slowly unfurling. I nod and tell him the same before exiting into the room I was sat in only minutes ago. As I turn into the room I almost walk in to a Peacekeeper. I must stop meeting people like this.

"Excuse me ma'am but I have been given orders that you are to remain in your situated quarters following today's incident." She says flatly and I take note of the large gun held confidently in her grasp. "I'm sorry but I was just taking a look around-" I begin but she cuts me off.

"Now ma'am." She says and nudges my leg with the tip of the gun. I'm about to make a comment about rudeness but figure it will just add fuel to the flames. I am escorted back to the quarters just in time to touch up my makeup before dinner.

I open my compact mirror and apply some more deep red lipstick to my lips and then a little more powder. In the reflection I see Haymitch enter the room without Katniss and Peeta at his tail so they must be preparing for dinner. He crosses the room and slumps down in one of the chairs.

"What was that about?" I ask coating my eyelashes in mascara and when he doesn't reply I ask again.

"Why do you care?" He drones and I snap my mirror closed and look him in the eye.

"Because, Haymitch, I am part of this team as well and I never get told anything." I snap instantly.

"It's for your own good." He sighs

"Why? Because you think I'm too inconsequential to even know them – these secrets?" I say raising my voice.

"Jesus woman, stop talking like a bloody dictionary! And no, I genuinely mean that it is for your own good. You already know too much." He shouts but then lowers his voice.

I sigh and rub my forehead with my hand. "So it's about the rebellion." I say

"Yes. But the less you know the safer you'll be." he affirms.

"Safer from whom? And why do you care so much anyway?" I shout. The last question must catch him off guard as he pauses for a moment.

"Safer from your kind." He snarls putting as much emphasis on 'kind' as possible.

"Why do you always say that? 'Your kind'? Like people from the Capitol are a completely different species." I yell.

"Well in some ways you are. I mean, you come to twelve every year, yet you don't see it. You're blind, like everyone else from the Capitol who's ever been. Children starve, people die every day but you don't see it because you're egotistical, narrow, shallow people." He spits with disdain dripping from each syllable.

"I do see it!" I scream "And if I could do something about I would so maybe you need to take this up with the president because that's who's to blame here. Not me. Also I have never met a more egotistical, narrow and shallow man in my whole life. I guess it's not just in the Capitol."

He laughs bitterly and stands until there is hardly any distance between us. "You know, I have never understood what any man has ever seen in you. Because all I see," He looks me up and down "is a selfish bitch who has a fit when she doesn't get her own way."

I slap him in the face, the sound echoing throughout the room. "I'll see you at dinner." I say coldly as I exit the room.

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**A/N: Ahhh! Haymitch you had to ruin it haha. I know I'm evil. But don't worry there is (finally) some Hayffie love coming soon so that's something to look forward to ;) Continue to review etc.**

**With lots of love! ~H x**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey Guys! This chapter has taken me a little longer to write as I accidentally deleted half the chapter -_- okay one more thing to say before you can start reading… Please, please, please check out 'An Unbreakable Bond by my good friend ForeverAndAlways861' it's an AU clato fic and I personally thought it was awesome! But any who, on with chapter 6!**

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The rest of the week passes by fairly uneventfully. Katniss and Peeta have gotten used to their schedule now and, thankfully, stick to it and there are no more additions to the thankyou's following the events in 11.

Although each day brings a new setting and crowd, the ceremonies and dinners are all the same; in a way I'm glad this is the first ,and last, victory tour I will ever have the 'upmost pleasure' of being part of. I am at the point of tearing my own hair out (luckily it's tucked under a wig), I am staying up until one in the morning writing schedules for the next day and when I eventually get to bed, all I can hear is screams and shouts coming from the neighbouring rooms which I can only presume is nightmares. I know it isn't their fault but now I'm resulting to either overdosing on sleeping pills or finding some quiet compartment where I can drink coffee all night. Either way I am shattered.

Today we arrive in the Capitol and seen as the journey from District One is a lengthy one we are expected to arrive at around four o'clock this afternoon just in time for a quick turnaround to attend the ceremony which is naturally shorter seen as they have no one to thank in the Capitol. I have told everyone on the train that they can sleep in until ten o'clock at the latest, giving everyone the rest they deserve after the tiresome week-and-a-half. On the one day I can actually have the sleep I need, technology has a better idea.

I wake up to the, oh too familiar sound of the alarm clock on my bedside table, drawing me out of my peaceful sleep. I slam my fist down, ceasing the ringing and manage to open my eyes just enough to make out the fluorescent red numbers. 6:30 am.

I moan and push my head back down onto the satin pillow although I know I will not find sleep again. I half expected to be blinded by sunlight streaming in, but the only sound I can hear is rain softly pattering against the train windows. I sigh and reluctantly pull myself from the warmth of my bed, opening the curtains only to reveal a grey, miserable day. I figure as it is so early and I gave people permission to stay in bed that little bit longer that I have no need to dress just yet. I pull on my white flannel robe and head out of my room.

The train corridor is understandably quiet; the only sound the almost silent engine humming contently as it takes us on the final, thank god, leg of our journey.

I go to the dining car to pick up a black coffee and when I look through the window I see a plastered Haymitch, head down on the mahogany table. I laugh silently to myself as I pour myself a coffee and him a glass of water. I take a fairly large risk when I attempt to replace the empty whisky glass with the water but it pays off seen as he doesn't stir.

I take a moment to just stand and look at his features and think to myself how different he looks to the confident, handsome boy I fell into a childlike love with when I was seven years old. I brush a stray strand of blond hair from his eyes and notice how peaceful he looks when he is, I suppose, sleeping as appose to when he is either drunk and disorderly or having an angry rant usually at me.

I quickly remove my hand from his cheek when I realise what I'm doing and move quickly in to one of the other compartments trying to push all thoughts of Haymitch Abernathy out of my mind and failing miserably. I end up at the very back of the train in the room where the windows retract into the ceiling seamlessly, giving you an almost 360 degree view of the landscape though today, there is not much to see.

The grey clouds stretch out as far as the eye can see, getting heavier in the direction we just came. The ground by the tracks is bleak and rocky as we pass by the borders of District 2 but with every mile, it becomes that little bit greener. The mountains that outline the Capitol are beginning to take shape and deep green coniferous forests colour their grey banks. The remnants of winter are still evident as their steep inclines are still dusted with white snow. I look at the clock and see that I have unintentionally allowed everyone an extra half hours sleep.

I pass through the different compartments, still eerily quiet, and once I get back to my room, I take out my cerise pink blazer and skirt that goes just above my knee. After taking out the matching shoes and wig, I apply contrasting turquoise shades around my eyes and a pink lipstick.

Once I am ready I knock on Katniss and Peeta's doors but since there is no reply from the latter, I presume he has gone to sleep with Katniss again. I only hear a tired mumble from behind Katniss' door which is probably as good as I'm going to get so I move down the corridor to the dining car.

I half expect to see Haymitch still slumped over the table but he has now retreated to the corner of the room and the only place that isn't flooded with bright sunlight. "Good morning Haymitch!" I chirp happily as I take a glass of orange juice from the side and take it to the dining table which is now laden with toast, pastries, muffins and virtually anything you could want for breakfast. He brings a hand up to his forehead and sighs deeply "Why do you have to be so goddamn happy at this time in the morning?"

"Why do you have to be so grouchy? You get to go home tomorrow. I still have two more journeys left on this thing." I say taking a croissant from the neatly stacked pile and placing it on the gilded china.

"Oh, my heart bleeds Princess." He retorts and I consider throwing the pastry in his direction but don't, seen as a food fight would be a. extremely unladylike and b. probably a fight I wouldn't win.

Katniss and Peeta enter and take a seat across from me at the table. "Are the sleeping pills not working dear?" I question noticing the dark circles underneath Katniss' eyes. She shakes her head before replying "they make it worse." I offer her a sympathetic smile and she returns it briefly.

We sit in silence for the rest of breakfast occasionally hearing the groans from Haymitch in the corner nursing the hangover from hell. It serves him right. Eventually I have enough of his constant cursing and indecipherable muttering, "Haymitch if you are going to make all of that noise please go somewhere else and do it." I snap and he looks at me as though I have said the most unreasonable thing in the world. "I'm suffering…" He mutters back and I laugh.

"Well that's no one's fault but your own." I say taking a sip of orange juice. "You know what, I'm glad that these two are taking over next year. Maybe twelve will have some victors for once." The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them and I know I shouldn't have said it, even if it was the truth.

"Ouch, that one hurt." Haymitch clutches his chest in fake agony and I roll my eyes. "Last thing I heard, Effie Trinket's quitting her job. Had enough of Katniss and Peeta for one lifetime or couldn't you bear to do the job without me?" He laughs and I sigh. Can't this man take anything seriously? Peeta is about to speak but Haymitch interjects him. "Or maybe she's finally sick and tired of leading children to their bloody deaths." He says disdainfully looking right at me and I slam my knife and fork down on the table, unable to put up with it anymore. I start shouting things at him, not caring in the slightest about manners, and he is shouting back. I occasionally shift my glance over to the kids and see that their eyes are moving back and forth between the two of us like they're watching some sort of tennis match.

Eventually I have had enough and I leave the room, taking off down the corridor at full speed. Once I have pulled open the door to my room I slam it closed, lock it and fall to the ground bringing my knees to my chin. Tears sting my eyes and run down my cheeks but I'm not crying because of all the words said, I am crying because I know he is right. I am a monster.

I'm not sure when I knew it first. I suppose it was my third year when I reaped a twelve year old and her brother. Bonnie and Caldwell Lockhearst, he was only two years older than she and vowed from the day they both took the stage that they wouldn't leave each other's sides. It was then really that I felt heartless and cold-blooded. She would never say anything directly to me or Haymitch and would only whisper things in her brother's ear to tell us, I'm not sure if she was shy or just didn't want to speak to anyone but her brother.

The night before the day they left for the arena, I was trying to get some sleep when I heard tiny whimpers and sobs coming through the wall from Bonnie's room. Every year I would vow not to become too attached to my tributes but I couldn't ignore the petite blonde girl in the next room crying to herself in the dark. I decided to go and see her though I knew I would probably be the last person in the world she would want to see. When I opened her door, letting a shaft of light from the hallway cut across the dark and illuminate her despairing grey eyes, flooded with tears. I walked over to her in the dark and sat on the end of her bed and surprisingly she didn't move away and instead nestled into my side. I was completely taken aback by this and I wrapped an arm around her small, shaking frame. I managed to pry her away from my side enough to look her in her eyes and ask her what the matter was though I knew full well what was wrong. She explained, her voice wavering and occasionally breaking as a new round of tears began to cascade down her cheeks. When she had explained I told her that she needed to sleep and when she asked me to stay until she did, I gladly accepted. Once she was in a deep sleep, I quietly edged my way out of her room but before I did I told her I was sorry. I knew she wouldn't hear me but just the fact that I had apologised lifted a heavy weight from my shoulders. When I found my way back to my room, I found a restless and torturous sleep.

They left for the arena the next day, a frozen wasteland. I was surprised when they both made it through to the final ten but when hunting for their only meal in days, Caldwell was shot in the neck with a poison dart from one of the other career tributes and died almost instantly. Bonnie was grief stricken and was trying unsuccessfully to bring her brother back. When night came she knew there was nothing she could do so crawled down beside her brother in the snow and eventually overnight, froze to death. Audiences from around Panem were absolutely beside themselves and for a period it was rumoured that there would be an uprising which of course never happened. I cried so much that night that I thought I would never be able to cry again which of course I proved wrong.

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"Effie, are you okay? You've been in there all afternoon. We're nearly there." I am awakened by the concerned voice of Peeta from the other side of my door. "Yes, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute." I say my voice dry. When I stand I pull the creases from my skirt and jacket and make my way towards the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, my eye makeup running and making a colour I never even knew existed. I laugh lightly and wipe my makeup off before reapplying it quickly and making my way back out into the corridor. Everyone is stood by the door, ready for our impending arrival in the Capitol, Cinna and Portia making sure Katniss and Peeta look presentable. Two Capitol attendants are stood at the rear, one holding bags containing dresses for the ladies and the other suits for the men.

When the doors open, we are greeted with hysterical Capitol citizens, all screaming, cheering and waving manically. Katniss and Peeta barely get a chance to wave back before we are loaded into a shiny black car, set to take us the old quarters in the Training Centre. When we arrive we only have mere minutes to turn around before Katniss and Peeta will appear for the twelfth time in front of the entire nation on a makeshift stage before the Training Centre.

Caesar Flickerman introduces the two of them and the crowd goes wild, chanting their names. Cinna, Portia, Haymitch and I are within the crowd but in a designated area reserved for the victor's party and valued or highly esteemed citizens, strangely lacking in the presence of the president tonight so I presume he must be making an appearance in the show. Caesar is reeling through a list of questions before he comes to one asking them both what they have planned for the future. As if on cue Peeta drops to one knee and begins pouring his heart out to Katniss and begs her to marry him, she of course accepts before pulling him from his knees and kissing him passionately. "I only hope it's enough." Says Haymitch over the now uncontrollable crowd, loud enough for me to hear but not for anyone else. I give him a questioning look but he just tells me "Later."

On large screens behind them it shows crowds from all over Panem show the country besotted with happiness. President Snow takes the stage, congratulating the two of them on their engagement. From the way he lingers in front of Katniss, not speaking but just standing, I can tell there is something going on.

The president finally manages to quiet the manic crowd and he asks the audience if we should throw them a wedding here in the Capitol. The crowd cheers again but soon quiets as Caesar asks the president if he has a date in mind. "Oh, before we set a date, we better clear it with Katniss' mother," The audience laughs and the president puts his arm around Katniss. Her smile wavers for a moment and I can tell by the way she is wringing her hands together that there is certainly something wrong.

After the interview, we have an hour and a half to prepare ourselves for the party. Cinna and Portia whisk Katniss and Peeta away immediately for prepping but Haymitch and I linger behind in the living room for a moment. "So what's going on?" I say when everyone else is out of earshot. Haymitch looks around the room before grabbing me firmly by the wrist and pulling me up a flight of stairs and to the roof. We reach the middle of the roof and I pull my arms across my chest when a sudden cold breeze sends a chill through me.

He explains everything and I listen intently, not interrupting once. He tells me about President Snow, the unrest in the districts even that Katniss and Gale shared a kiss. He says that Katniss thinks the whole country, us especially, are in jeopardy because of the stunt she pulled with the berries. The public marriage proposal was her idea to make sure that we were in his good books for now.

"Well, now you can't say I never tell you anything." Says Haymitch with a smile and I laugh lightly. "Thank you." I say returning the smile. We stand in silence for a few minutes before I excuse myself and go and get ready for the party figuring we spent a good ten minutes talking on the roof.

When I reach my room I see my dress hung on the door to the bathroom along with the shoes and wig to match lying on the chest of drawers. The dress I chose looks so different in the homely glow of the room as appose to the fluorescent, almost white light of the shop I purchased it from and for a pretty penny I might add. I run the crimson red silk between my fingers seeing miniscule threads of silver and gold catch the light. It was definitely worth the money. I slip it on and it fits me perfectly. The back of the dress was the only thing I was unsure about as it stops just above the small of my back but under closer inspection I find that I actually like it. I pull blonde curls that cascade down my back over my head, not too dissimilar to my own except for the metallic streak of gold that runs through the front. I had taken Portia shopping with me and she was the one who suggested that I buy it and I can see why she is my best friend and also an acclaimed stylist because it looks fabulous. I wipe of the days makeup and replace it with deep crimson lipstick and black eyeliner curling out into a flick and ending with a small diamante applied to one side. I pull on my shoes and head out of the door.

All three of the men wear a traditional black tuxedo with different colour trimmings. Peeta's is outlined with a deep red which matches exactly to Katniss' dress, Cinna's a fiery orange and Haymitch a vibrant gold. Portia is probably the only one in the group that is wearing a short dress but it still looks beautiful and compliments her tanned skin tone and dark brown hair styled in tight curls. We all head down in the elevator which is a little cramped considering there are seven of us in there. The prep teams are clearing away everything they have used and then are joining us there.

We get into two separate cars, Katniss and Peeta leading up front and Haymitch, Cinna, Portia,

and I at the rear. I can't help but smile when Haymitch occasionally pulls on his bow tie until it comes looser. I sigh and tell him to pull it back up again although I am finding it rather amusing, only to be replied by some snarky comment which earns a sarcastic smile from me.

When we arrive at the president's mansion, we see that Katniss and Peeta are already a good halfway up the red carpet and are being recorded and photographed from just about every angle. A man in a suit opens the car door for us and we all file out in order: Cinna, Portia, Haymitch then me

People are shouting our names from just about anywhere and I don't know where to look so I just stand there waving, smiling and blowing kisses in just about every direction. I look ahead of me to see that Haymitch is also waving but never enthusiastically, just enough to satisfy the shouts and screams. We all eventually make it into the grand banquet hall which has been transformed especially for the occasion. I take a moment to look around and admire the fantastic architecture and décor. Fine paintings hung from just about every wall and floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflecting the happy dancers that occupy at least two thirds of the space. I descend the grand marble staircase and into a night that I probably won't forget for a long time.

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**A/N: Wow haha! 3485 words lol, that's my longest chapter yet and I hope you all liked it! I will update quite soon as I have already written chapter 7 but I need to type it up. Again, please check out the ff I mentioned above and continue to review/favourite etc.**

**Lots of love! ~ H x **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Heyy guys :) Sorry this chapter is a little late; I've been putting up my Christmas decorations all weekend! Anyway though, here is chapter 7 :) I think you guys will like it ;)**

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I am stood admiring the spectacular displays of food on offer when I feel a powerful pull on my arm. I whip my head around risking my wig shifting slightly, it's Haymitch. Of course it is.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" I hiss over the music, yanking my arm free.

"I need you to dance with me. Right now." He replies leading me over to the dance floor that is now crowded with people. "You could've just asked me nicely you know, it's really very ru-" I begin but he cuts me off.

"Not my biggest concern right now, princess." He says putting one hand in mine and the other round my waist all the time scanning the room for something unknown to me. His eyes stop dead at some point and he looks back down at me so I guess he found what he's looking for. "What is it?" I ask attempting to look over his shoulder discreetly and failing miserably.

He spins us round so I am now facing the direction he was a moment ago. "The one in the purple dress," He says, his head half hanging, half leaning on my shoulder. I have to stand on my tip toes to see over his shoulder (even in high heels, he is a fair amount taller than me) and eventually I see who he is talking about. A woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties is stood at the top of the marble staircase looking round anxiously, her mint green curls bouncing every time she moves. "What about her?" I turn back to Haymitch who is trying to hide behind me and also failing.

"She's… uh," He makes a noise, trying to think how to word his answer "Let's just say she has a bit of a thing for victors. Me in particular."

"Like a stalker?" I say trying to supress a laugh.

"Yes, like a stalker. She just happens to be wherever I am." This sends me over the edge and into a full blown fit of hysterics. It's the thought of this woman looking at him through binoculars and tapping into his phone calls, well I'm sure she would if he hadn't torn it from the wall. He stands on my foot deliberately and I stop laughing, "why did you do that?"

"Because it's not funny…"

"Well it is, otherwise I wouldn't have been laughing."

"Shut up Eff- Oh God she's coming this way." He looks back down to me and I smirk but he glares at me so I decide now is not a good time to start laughing. My thoughts are interrupted by high pitched squealing and the clatter of high heels across marble. "Haymitch!" The woman squeals as she sort of attempts to run in her ridiculously high heels.

"Ahh, Opal! What a complete and utter surprise to see you here!" Says Haymitch, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She seems to not pick up on it though I'm not sure how, this man's sarcasm is about as subtle as a gun, and continues to beam obliviously. I laugh a little but stop abruptly when I see that Opal is staring daggers at me. "Oh…Effie is it?" She says her smile faltering a little when she realises that I am dancing with Haymitch and she isn't. "Yes, Escort from twelve. Perhaps you've seen me on the television?" I say not knowing how stupid I sound. _Of course she's seen you on the television, every damn citizen of Panem has._

It takes her a little while to speak again but she eventually manages to say something. "So are you two…" she starts and Haymitch finishes.

"Together? Yeah." He grins cockily down at me and I shoot him a disapproving look, wondering exactly where this is going to go. Time I had some fun of my own. "Oh well, it's nothing serious. A very open relationship." I say smiling

"Really?!" She makes a jump for Haymitch which he dodges rather well.

"Well I wouldn't call it open sweetheart." He says raising an eyebrow, questioning my judgement but I just smile back sweetly.

"Sweetheart?" She says her face growing hard and tears threatening to spill at any moment.

"I don't want to be with anyone but you." Haymitch elaborates making me smirk.

"Well I'm not sure if I'm ready to make that kind of commi-" I begin but I am cut off by his lips on mine.

I stagger back a little not too sure what to do. My first instinct would be to slap him in the face for having the audacity to take advantage like that without a proper explanation but oddly I can't find myself able to tear away from his lips. Instead, I allow myself to sink deeper into his arms my hand travelling up from his shoulder to his cheek , his stubble tickling slightly while the other is still held in his.

Just as I find myself beginning to enjoy it he pulls away and I become aware of my surroundings again. I drop both my hands to my sides and start to feel a blush creeping on to my cheeks so I quickly turn back to Opal before the heat can reach anywhere else. She has a look of complete repugnance on her face and all the colours on her face are mixing together making a horrific shade of brown. "As I said, not open." Says Haymitch grinning cockily as we position ourselves into the hold of the dance and begin to sway inattentively. She makes a noise between a squeak and cry and turns on her heel before stalking back to the entrance, shoving past several people as she goes.

I exhale and turn back to face Haymitch "she was so scary." I say not much louder than a whisper.

"And bipolar." He adds making me laugh.

We continue to sway to the music almost completely forgetting that we are actually doing it. At some point our eyes meet again and for a moment I think he is going to kiss me, but he doesn't. I kiss him. I pull back almost instantly and bring my finger tips to my mouth. I look back up to him and see that he looks a little confused and shocked to say the least.

"Shit," I say a little louder than anticipated "I-I mean, I'm sorry." And with that I begin to walk away. I weave my way through the dancing couples, though I can hear Haymitch shouting my name from behind me, telling me to come back. I take a flute of champagne from a passing server, downing the whole thing in one surprising myself and her. I replace the glass and head out of one of the french doors and out onto a balcony. The cold air hits me and I grimace but carry on walking slowly to the edge of the balcony.

I prop myself up on my elbows and put my head in my hands. "Stupid girl," I think out loud, pushing my palms against my eyelids making tiny flecks of colour appear. I wish I could just shut out the world and disappear all together. Why did I do it? I shouldn't have kissed him. Maybe I could just avoid him for the rest of the tour, I mean we only tonight then twelve. Meals might be a little awkward but- "You'll catch your death out here y'know." A voice cuts me off mid thought making me jump. I turn my head and see the exact person I didn't want to talk to. Haymitch sighs and comes to stand beside me.

"Why'd you run away?" He asks breaking the silence

"Because I kissed you." I rely a little icily

"Okay…" He pushes

"I kissed you and I shouldn't have – I am just tired and, and stressed and I'm kind of at a point in my life where I just," tears are running down my cheeks and I'm finding it quite challenging to speak "I don't know. And I don't know how to know…" I let the sobs overtake me and make no effort to stop them. Haymitch pulls me into his arms and I lean my head against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist. "I'm sorry." I say not much louder than a whisper, a few tears still falling down my cheeks and onto the fabric of his jacket and shirt. He pulls away and the warmth leaves me again. I look up at his seam grey eyes but before anyone can say anything I avert my gaze down to the floor. Almost immediately his finger catches my chin and I'm gazing hopelessly back into his wonderful grey eyes.

He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb before resting his hand on my cheek. "You look beautiful tonight," he says and I can feel a blush creep onto my face so I look back down at the ground but he catches my gaze again "I mean it." I can't stop the smile playing on my lips and I can't believe that I am being called beautiful by a sober Haymitch Abernathy.

He slips his hand round the small of my back, pulling me a little closer until there is almost no distance between us. He begins to move towards me and instead from moving away I feel my body lean in to him, my face just inches from his. "Uh oh," I say when our lips are just about to meet for the third time this evening. He moves away a little and looks me in the eye but I put my arm around his neck pulling him back again. "Am I about to kiss a man I've hated for five years?"

"I sure as hell hope so." He smiles and leans in to kiss me once more.

I let his lips tangle with mine and his arms wrap strongly around my waist, protectively holding me close to him. My heart is speeding with adrenaline – my mind lost in the arms of the man I am indubitably falling in love with.

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**A/N: Awww! I'm sorry this chapter is a little short but I kind of wanted to cut to the chase, as it were. I'm sorry if there are some spelling, punctuation and grammar issues but I'm tired and quite frankly, too tired to proof read but anyway, I hope you guys liked it and continue giving feedback etc. Look out for chapter 8!**

**Much love ~ H x **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello everyone! Have you all got over the last chapter? Haha ;) Well anyway on with chapter 8! :) **

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Haymitch and I make our way vigilantly back into the bustling hall, glad that everyone is too caught up in their own little worlds to care. Haymitch gives me a nudge in the side and indicates that he is going over to the bar and I do nothing to stop him.

I jump when someone touches my arm. "Where have you been?" says a curious Portia from my side.

"Oh just out on the balcony, for some air." I clarify. She gives me the look, the same look she gave me in high school when I denied fancying Seneca Crane. Any girl would've gladly fallen head over heels for a chance with him but he only had eyes for me. Or so he said.

"What!" I say grinning.

"You went out and Haymitch followed you. I saw, the two of you were out there for a good ten minutes." She laughs and I just roll my eyes at her.

"So? We were just discussing erm… we were discussing…" I trail off not too sure what to say. Honestly! I feel about sixteen again.

"God! You're such a bad liar Effie!" She laughs and I tap her lightly on the arm. She brushes it off anyway and after a few moments changes the subject completely. "Have you tried the lobster terrine? It's simply to die for." She says excitedly as she leads me over to the food table.

In the few hours that come, I spend them being congratulated by various citizens on my fantastic new victors, chit-chatting with people about the grandeur of the place though most of the other escorts here have already been here before. I dance with a few of the Capitols eligible bachelors whom Portia 'kindly' introduces me to. I smile and go along with the jokes, the chatter and the flirting but I don't mean any of it. I don't want to dance with these strangers. I want to dance with Haymitch again.

Occasionally I look around for him though I never see him, there must be way over five hundred guests in this room alone as all I can see is a rainbow of hair, skin and clothes.

Soon enough it is almost midnight and I politely excuse myself to find where my colleague has gotten to. I make my way through the crowds and to the bar where I expect to find Haymitch and probably his good friend Chaff but I only see the latter.

"Where's Haymitch?" I ask Chaff noticing that his drinking partner is nowhere to be seen. He gets up off the bar stool and bobs down to the ground where Haymitch is sat, drink in hand. "Oi, 'Mitch. Get up, you're escorts here." He says occasionally nudging him with his stump. I sigh and wave over two Capitol attendants when he fails to move from his current position. "Just take him up to the entrance; I'll be there in a minute." I say as I set off to find Katniss and Peeta in amongst the hustle and bustle of the party.

Eventually I find them stood by a table of elaborately decorated cakes. "Time to say thank you and farewell!" I trill and pull them both over to a series of important people they have to thank for the evening. We meet Cinna and Portia at the large oak doors leading back out to the car but before we leave Peeta asks, "Shouldn't we thank President Snow? It is his house."

I shake my head. "Oh he's not a big one for parties. Too busy," I say "I've already arranged for the necessary notes and gifts to be sent to him tomorrow. There you are!" I give the two Capitol attendants a wave and they follow behind us with an inebriated Haymitch propped between them.

We travel through the streets of the Capitol in the same car with darkened windows. The cheering crowds are thickly lining the streets just for a glimpse of the Girl on Fire, the car coming to a halt at some points. I'm glad I allowed time for this. The journey from the president's mansion to the station should only take around forty-five minutes but I have allowed an extra fifteen for this exact reason.

Once we are all back on the train, Haymitch is deposited in his room (I make a mental note to see him later) and Cinna orders tea for the rest of us. Everyone around the table looks absolutely shattered and I make quick work of tomorrow's schedule as to not prolong the agony. We all finish our tea and bid each other goodnight.

My sub-conscious takes over out of pure tiredness and I find myself back in my room with almost no idea how I got there.

I sigh as I realise that I still need to see Haymitch so I slip off my shiny red outfit and replace it with a nightdress and my dressing gown since I will be going straight to bed after I see him. I debate taking off my wig and decide to, seen as he is probably too intoxicated to notice anyway.

I head down the train towards his room and tap on the door a few times but when he doesn't answer I just walk in. For a moment I don't think he is in here but then I notice that the bathroom door has been left slightly ajar.

I knock on that door as well just in case he is reliving himself. "Haymitch," I call "you in there?"

"Yes and don't worry I'm not having a piss if that's what you want to know." I roll my eyes, same old Haymitch. I push open the door and I am greeted by the smell of vomit and alcohol. How delightful.

"What're you doing here at this late hour, princess?" He slurs from his position next to the toilet.

"Well actually," I rummage through one of the cupboards to find a washcloth "I was hoping to talk to you but I would rather talk to you when you're sober-ish." I run the flannel under the cold tap and kneel down to where he is slumped.

"Good luck with that one." He adds with a smile and I laugh lightly to myself. I begin to run the cloth over his brow and down to his jaw hoping to rid him of the groggy feeling that comes with being drunk (though I suppose he's used to it by now).

I start to remember how his lips felt against mine and the warmth I felt with his arms wrapped around my waist. I wish I could've lived in that moment forever. Oblivious to everything else in the world, only paying attention to the two of us. No rumours of rebellion, no Katniss and Peeta, no victory tour and no Hunger Games.

"Wait there." I say as I leave the cloth on the edge of the sink and go back into the bedroom. I root through a few drawers and find a pair of blue pyjamas and take them back to the bathroom. I thrust them into Haymitch's hands "put these on and I'll wait outside and make sure you actually make it to bed and don't pass out on the way." I leave the room, closing the door behind me and sit down in a chair at the far end of the bedroom and wait for him to emerge again.

He finally staggers over to his bed and I try to recall the last time I have seen him wear pyjamas and can't. I make my way over to the bedside table and move an open bottle of liquor to a different surface, just in case he has nightmares. "Goodnight Haymitch" I say but as I go to leave he grabs hold of my wrist pulling me back.

"Can you stay here tonight?" He asks me in a childlike fashion, making me wonder if he is still drunk or not. I stand there motionless for a minute but nod anyway and move round to the opposite side of the bed and lie down on top of the covers, figuring I will just leave when he is asleep. I turn off the light and roll onto my side so I can see his face clearly in the dim moonlight seeping through a gap in the curtains.

He looks so peaceful and childlike and I spend what seems like forever just watching him and listening to the deep, uneven breathing telling me that he is asleep.

I would get up and leave if his hand hadn't found mine in his dreams.

Before I can stop myself I lean over and plant a soft kiss on his brow and when he doesn't stir, I smile to myself in the dark before pulling the cotton covers round me and giving in to sleep.

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When I awaken I find myself fully rested for the first time in a while. I stretch out and only remember where I am when I feel cotton brush against my legs instead of the satin on my own bed. I look to my right and see Haymitch still sleeping at my side, hand still resting limply in mine. I smile and lie back against the head board for a moment, relishing the peace and quiet. I glance over to the clock on the wall and see that it is around nine-thirty which is just as well really as we aren't pulling in to District Twelve until five o'clock this evening so I have some time to spare.

From the gap in the curtains, I can make out a sky filled with grey clouds and a ground covered with snow. I sigh and relax back into the warm sheets. Well, I might at least enjoy a moment of tranquillity.

"Good morning." Says a groggy voice from beside me.

"Oh, good morning," I say a little shocked "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me with that god-awful knife you keep under your pillow."

"What you mean this?" He says pulling the blade from under his pillow "oh come on, I don't hate you that much." He tucks the knife away back under his pillow and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"I didn't think you hated me at all after last night," I state matter of factly.

"Ahh, yes. Last night." He says with a grin, looking as if he is replaying the events back in his mind.

"Last night." I reply laughing lightly "I'm actually surprised you remember. You were quite drunk when I found you sat on the floor by the bar." I add and he moves a bit closer to me in the bed.

"Either I got really drunk or I'm an astoundingly good actor."

"Well that is sort of what I wanted to talk about last night." I say a little more seriously

"What my acting skills?" I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow.

"No, what happened," I say and he nods though he is still smirking so I can tell this conversation isn't going to be as serious as I had hoped .

"Are we going to have 'the talk'? And not the one about how babies are made, though you could tell me that as well. I might need reminding and don't spare me the details."

"Haymitch! Don't be so vulgar!" I say "yes we are going to have the talk because I think we need to know where this is going to-" I am cut off by his lips and I return the kiss eagerly but break away wanting to finish what I was originally saying.

"I think that we need to talk about this like two adul-" Kiss.

"Haymitch, are you going to let me finish anything I'm saying?"

"Just shut up, sweetheart." He says returning his lips to mine hungrily and with a force that I hadn't felt last night.

My hands find the collar of his pyjama top and I pull him closer until my head is resting back on the pillow. He has one of his hands tangled in my hair and I think he realises this too as he pulls away almost instantly.

"What?" I say as his grey eyes meet mine.

"Is this your real hair?" he asks and I nod in response "it looks much nicer than those wigs you wear." He says running one of my honey blonde curls between his thumb and forefinger. "Why weren't you wearing it when you came to see me?"

"Because, I didn't think I would be staying in here and also I thought you would be too drunk to notice." I laugh and he considers this for a moment.

"Seems legit." He says and kisses me again.

After a while I have to break the kiss, not only for air, but because I notice the time and realise that I told Katniss and Peeta I would be up to run through the schedule over breakfast, which ended fifteen minutes ago.

"I need to go." I say a little hurriedly

"Oh, c'mon princess. You can't leave me like this." He says with a face like a lost puppy dog.

"I'm sorry! I promised Katniss and Peeta that I would run through the schedule with them over breakfast," I say apologetically "Although, I am staying in twelve overnight seen as the celebrations don't start until tomorrow-" I begin

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to like what's coming next."

"I think you are," I say "I was going to be staying at Mayor Undersee's house but I'm sure that other arrangements could be made."

"Well in that case I will let you go," he grins cockily and I laugh.

And with that, I leave him with a kiss and a promise of tonight.

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**A/N: Well, that was a nice fluffy one for y'all :) Anyway, please continue to leave feedback and look out for chapter 9! **

**~H x **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hi guys, sorry this chapter is a little late, I've been busy Christmas shopping etc. but anyway I've broken up for the holidays now and have a blissful 17 days off so I should be updating a little more frequently. Anyway, here is Chapter 9!**

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I am seated at the large oak table of the dining room in the mayor's house, nervously tugging at the hem of my canary yellow dress. He was meant to be here half an hour ago and it is really very improper to keep a lady waiting, or so my mother says.

As if on cue, the clock chimes half past and in he walks, liquor bottle in hand.

I notice just how different he looks without all of the makeup he was made to wear for the interviews and pictures. He has a small growth of stubble instead of being clean shaven and his hair is a little longer that in his last interview and is matted as appose to being the neat and perfect comb over inflicted upon him by the Capitol.

He does a double take when he sees me and almost instantly brings his forearm to cover his eyes as though he has just looked directly into the sun.

"Christ, where are the sunglasses?" He slurs before I even get a chance to introduce myself.

I take a deep breath and compose myself before crossing the room and extending a hand in his direction. "Hello Mr Abernathy, my name is Effie Trinket and I'm the new escort for twelve." I beam with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. He looks at me questioningly and I truly have no idea why, I drop my hand to my side as I figure he's not going to shake it any time soon.

"Well you're not a fucking citizen, that's for bloody sure." He mutters taking a swig from his clear glass bottle.

"Are you always this rude?" I ask before I can stop the words from tumbling from my mouth. I resume my seat at the table, crossing my ankles and folding my hands in my lap, just like mother taught me.

"Are you always this obnoxious? 'Cause if you are I think I'm going to kill myself…" he retorts and takes the seat opposite me and slams his bottle down on the table, doing God only knows what to the wood.

"Do us both the favour." I sigh under my breath.

It was only last week that I got the letter from the Games Board informing me that I had been accepted as the escort for District Twelve and also that it was mandatory that I attend a half hour's induction session in twelve with my soon to be colleague, 'introducing and adjusting to one another'. For a while I was actually looking forward to meeting the man I had fallen head over heels for but now, not so much. It might of helped if we had gotten off on the right foot seen as I am signed up for a minimum of five years' service to the Capitol.

"I'm sorry," I say after a long pause "that really was very bad-mannered of me."

"I'm not." He says looking me straight in the eye and I lose it, standing up and slamming my hands down on the table.

"Mr Abernathy, I am not enjoying this any more than you are but like it or not we still have," I glance over to the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the room "Five years, twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds practically chained to one another so you'd better get used to it or that time is going to be very long and miserable for you."

He looks at me from the other side of the table with an expression of amusement and perplexity before laughing bitterly. "My life is already miserable sweetheart, so don't try and threaten me with my own happiness because it won't work. I don't have any left."

"All the bleeding hearts of the world unite," I retort sarcastically stirring the cup of tea, set out for me before he arrived.

"Fuck you, Trinket." He says standing up and storming over to the doors which are ,unfortunately for the both of us, locked. He sighs deeply and sinks to the ground, his back against the white and gold doors.

We sit in silence for the next twenty-nine minutes and twelve seconds before the doors are unlocked and we are released from each other's presence.

* * *

We are all led by the mayor to the dining room of his beautiful home and as we pass through the white and gold doors, I realise that it is the same room I spent my induction session with Haymitch in.

I smile to myself as we are led to our places at the table, noticing that I am sat in the exact same seat I was in the last time I was here. Haymitch is seated on the other side of the table and he smiles across at me, probably remembering the exact same event I am. I am taken aback by the beauty of the room that I hadn't noticed before, or if I had, couldn't remember.

It matches the grandeur that I saw when we were in District Eleven, only this room seems more like part of a home. There are paintings of the residents past and present on each of the walls, the mayor, his wife and daughter adorn one wall and a young version of his wife and, who I presume is her twin sister, on another. I recognise her though, her blonde hair, blue eyes and the mockingjay pin attached to the collar of her dress. Maysilee. Haymitch's ally in the Quarter Quell. Her niece is the exact spitting image of her and upon closer inspection of the painting of the current dwellers; I see her wearing her aunt's pin. I look across to Haymitch who seems to have ignored the roast chicken and rosemary potatoes placed in front of him and is staring directly at the painting of Maysille, looking exactly how she did the day she was reaped.

I look back down at my plate, figuring that he probably won't want an audience though occasionally, I glance up to see what Haymitch is doing but look back down again, not wanting to be caught.

"I can't do this," Haymitch's voice cuts through the deafening silence and all seventeen people around the table stare in bewilderment as he leaves the room.

"Do you want me to?" Peeta directs to me, beginning to stand up but I wave my hand for him to sit down again.

"No, that's quite alright. Excuse me." I say placing the white cotton napkin previously on my lap on the table and walking out the double doors after him.

I look down both ends of the corridor and seeing nothing, walk out of the back door to the house. I scan the dark and snowy surrounding area from the rear porch and see him walking back in the direction towards Victor's Village.

"Haymitch!" I shout from the porch but he continues walking. I take off down the steps half running half stumbling across the gravel still laced with frost and ice, which wearing high heels, is proving a difficult task. I eventually catch up with him but when I say his name again he still pays no attention.

"Haymitch, please." I grab his wrist and he turns round to face me. "Why did you leave?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"She was everywhere, Effie. She was in the pictures and when I looked at the Mayors daughter all I saw was Maysilee." The sadness in his eyes is something I have never seen before and I don't know what to say.

"I'm sorry." I finally choke out feeling tears spring to my eyes but I blink them back.

"Don't be, it was my fault anyway." He says suppressing tears of his own. I move my hand from his wrist to his palm, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It wasn't your fault, even if those birds hadn't killed her, the girl from one would have. You can't blame yourself for her death, Haymitch. She wouldn't want it." I say solemnly and he looks up to meet my gaze, shaking his head.

"I could've saved her, Eff. I can't forget that."

"I know." I pull him into an embrace, my lips next to his ear. "What do you want me to tell everyone?" I whisper and I feel him shrug. I pull away and look into his grey eyes, shining with tears "On second thoughts, I'm coming with you," I say firmly

"Why?"

"Because you'll only drink yourself stupid… Besides, I'm not a big fan of chicken." I say and the corners of his mouth twitch up into a small smile. I lace my arm through his and we continue walking towards Victors Village.

He pushes open the door to his house and flicks on the light switch but neither of us are prepared for the sight in front of us. It's clean. No bottles, no discarded items of clothing, no sky high mail pile. The house looks as though it has never been lived in or at least, not by Haymitch.

"What the…" Haymitch mutters before stepping out of the door again and examining the gold plaque that, sure enough, reads:

~Haymitch Abernathy~

Victor of the Second Quarter Quell

He steps back inside, almost tripping on my suitcase that had been delivered here by one of the train staff, and looks round the house before his face lights up with realisation. "Oh, Katniss did say something about sending Hazelle Hawthorne round to clean the place up."

"Is that her friend's mother?" I ask taking off my jacket and placing it on the back of the armchair.

"Her cousins mother, yes." He corrects me with a smile and I smile back.

"Right." I sit down on the sofa and kick off my shoes (however fabulous they are, they aren't all too comfortable).

I watch Haymitch as he searches through his kitchen cupboards, presumably for some form of alcohol. He emerges from the cupboard under the sink holding a bottle of white liquor and then goes to another and retrieves two glasses. "Drink?" he asks holding up the bottle and glasses and I nod in reply.

He plonks down next to me on the sofa and pours two measures of the alcohol before handing me a glass. "Here's to clean houses." I say raising my glass

"To clean houses." He repeats and touches the corner of his glass with mine. He pretty much downs his in one go but one sip leaves me coughing and my throat burning.

"Too strong for you princess?" he laughs and just to prove him wrong I down the rest of my glass, strangely enjoying the burning liquid running down my throat.

"No, I used to drink this stuff nearly every night." I say gesturing to the bottle. He makes a noise and I frown. "What?"

"Nothing, just thought you were more of a pink wine and champagne girl." He says, still a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I am now, wasn't then."

"Why'd you drink?"

"Pardon?"

"Everyone has a reason for drinking. You know mine, so what was yours?"

"Well, when I was sixteen my father died and I kind of went through this depressive, rebellious phase. I drank. I smoked, quit now. I died my hair black." Haymitch laughs from beside me and when I give him a look he motions for me to continue.

"I worked in a club to help pay the bills, oh not that kind of club Haymitch, and then I slept with probably every guy in my year, I got quite the reputation." He smirks and I lie down, my head in his lap. "My mother had never worked a day in her life and didn't intend to start then, and when working in the club didn't bring enough money in to pay the bills, I looked for another job. Turns out being an escort was the highest paying job in the Capitol so the day I turned eighteen I applied and then two years later I was given the job and that is why I am where I am today." All the time I have been talking Haymitch has been staring at me and I've been staring at him back, lost in his eyes. It's a wonder I didn't stop talking all together. I prop myself up on the arm of the sofa and smile. "What?"

"Am I not allowed to look at you now, princess?" He asks grinning cockily.

"You can do a lot more than look at me." I say and take his face in my hands and kiss him.

He kisses me back and wraps his arms around my waist pulling me closer and I make quick work in removing my wig one handed and letting my blonde curls fall down around my face. He kisses down my neck and I sigh, inwardly cursing myself for not doing this sooner. I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me off the cushion as if I weigh no more than a slice of bread, which is nice to think. He carries me up the stairs and when we reach the hallway he pulls away from the kiss and looks around.

"Huh, she did upstairs too." He mutters and I laugh returning my lips to his again. He opens the door to his room and without bothering to turn on the light, lays me down on the bed and crawls on top of me. I kiss him deeply and my hands go to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them on by one until I have rid him of the fabric. I trail my eyes across his bare chest and stomach and smile to myself when I see that he still has most of the muscles that he gained when he was training for the Quell. I run my hand across the scar running across his stomach, remembering how he got it, remembering how I thought he was going to die.

I quickly return my lips to his to try and rid my mind of the bloody, gruesome images now filling every thought. He undoes the zip running down the side of my dress and I lift up my arms, assisting him in removing the garment.

"That was surprisingly easy," he smiles against my lips and I laugh lightly.

"Capitol clothes are designed with convenience in mind." I say and he laughs before returning his lips to mine once again. He runs his hands across my bare stomach and thighs leaving a trail of fire across my skin. My back is pressed firmly against the mattress and I break the kiss for a moment and look deeply into his grey eyes, shining in the almost non- existent light of the room and clouded over with lust. I move in for another kiss as he buries his hands in my hair.

And for once, I could say that everything was right in the world in this one wonderful moment.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you go! I apologise to those of you who enjoy some lemons but I didn't really want to come away from the sort of cute relationship they have (that didn't really make any sense) but anyway, there it is! A million thank you's for everyone that has read and reviewed so far and continue doing so! Chapter 10 coming soon :)**

**With more love than I can put into writing! ~ H x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi guys! Hope you all had a good Christmas! Sorry it's a little late, my 4 and 2 year old cousins have sort of crash landed so I haven't had much time to myself haha but anyway, on with Chapter 10 (chapter 10, wow lol!) **

* * *

"Morning, princess."

The voice from beside me brings me out of my post-sleep haze and I rub my eyes tiredly.

"We really must stop meeting like this." I smile and he chuckles. We both stay silent for a moment, probably trying to wake up properly and also recalling the 'events' of last night.

"I can't help but think how weird this is. In a good way."

"I was just thinking that." I say, leaning my head against his bare chest and sighing contently. He wraps one hand around my waist and buries the other hand in my hair, twisting curls between his fingers and examining each of them as though they are about to disappear altogether.

I close my eyes and sink into his arms, letting the soft, even thumps off his heart lull me into a peaceful state. That is until a rumble emits from the pit of my stomach. He seems to notice it too and starts laughing.

"What do you have to eat?" I say sitting up. He smiles and shrugs in response.

"Are you saying there is nothing to eat in this house, Haymitch?" I groan pulling a face.

"Peeta might've been but otherwise, probably not." He says nonchalantly, sinking back in to his pillow and closing his eyes.

"How do you survive?" I ask a little shocked that he has no food in his house. Much like the rest of the district, I suppose. He shrugs casually and I roll my eyes.

"Fine, I'll go look." I huff and pull myself from the warmth of the bed and when the cold hits me I realise that I am still stark naked so grab Haymitch's shirt from the floor and pull it over myself.

"Hold your horses, sweetheart, I'm coming with you. If there is any food I want to get something before you shovel it all." He pulls on a pair of trousers and joins me at the door leading to the upstairs hallway.

"What are you inferring exactly?" I put my hands on my hips and scowl.

"That if Peeta_ has_ been, you will probably want to eat everything he has made."

He's right, I have never tried Peeta's baking but if it is anything like the things I've heard, then this statement has added nothing but an air of anticipation and excitement to having breakfast.

We make our way sleepily down the stairs and into the living room that also connects to the kitchen. As soon as we get to the archway of the kitchen, I push Haymitch back up against the wall.

"What?" he asks a little too loudly and I press my finger to my lips.

"Peeta" I mouth and he grins cockily.

"Good, we have food then." He says just as loudly as he did before and I glare at him.

"Will you shut up!" I hiss slapping him lightly on the arm.

"Sweetheart, what's the issue?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I am wearing nothing but your shirt. No wigs, no makeup and no high heels."

"Just as well then, he probably won't even know who you are."

"He's not stupid." I peer round the corner and see that he is laying a basket full of pastries down on the kitchen table and positioning a note in between two pain au chocolat.

"Yeah, and he's not deaf either." He pulls me round the archway and into the kitchen.

Peeta's eyes flicker between the two of us for a moment and I cringe mentally at how awkward this must look. "Good morning" He says and smiles in a way that gives me the impression that he knows exactly what's going on.

"Good morning." Both me and Haymitch say in unison, just adding to the embarrassment of the whole situation. There is a slightly awkward silence and we all look amongst each other waiting for someone to say something.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it." Peeta dismisses himself, still wearing the same knowing smile.

As soon as the back door shuts, I go ballistic. "Haymitch, why did you do that?! Did you not see him; he knows exactly what's going on! Mind you, it's pretty much idiot proof!" I gesture to myself wildly but Haymitch seems all too casual about it.

"Calm yourself down, sweetheart. Eat your pastry." He says calmly, picking up a croissant and taking a bite.

I sigh and take the neatly written note from the basket and read the words out loud.

"'Dear Haymitch and Effie, thank you for being so supportive during the Victory Tour and for helping us through. We appreciate it greatly. Kind regards, Peeta and Katniss.' Oh, isn't that lovely." I place it down on the table and take a cinnamon swirl from the basket.

"Delightful," says Haymitch with a mouthful of food.

"As are you." I mutter taking the seat across from him and picking at the pastry in front of me, trying to eat it in the most civilised way possible without a plate or knife and fork.

We spend the rest of breakfast in silence only breaking it by asking whether the other would like coffee or making small talk about the snow, now coming down in sheets.

After filling myself to the brim with delicious food, courtesy of Peeta, I dismiss myself and take my case upstairs to get dressed.

Once in the bathroom, I take a quick hot shower which lasts longer than anticipated seen as the water needs to warm up substantially due to the cold weather outside. Once I have stepped out, I wrap myself in a white cotton towel and look at myself in the mirror running across the wall.

Without all of the makeup and elaborate clothes, I could probably pass for a citizen of twelve. If the Hunger Games didn't exist and the law wasn't as strict, I'm sure that District 12 would be a perfectly nice place to live. They have woods and I'm sure that Katniss can't be the only person in the district who hunts in there. If they allowed exports from other districts to circulate around the whole country instead of just to the Capitol then I'm certain I would probably live here. If you strip away the coal dust and starving families, it would be a very beautiful place.

I shake my head and sigh. The ridiculous dream of a ridiculous woman.

"Sweetheart, you done in there? I need to piss." Haymitch, charming as ever, cuts into my thoughts and I roll my eyes.

"There are two other bathrooms in the house, Haymitch."

"I'm saving those for a special occasion." I laugh and grab the bottles from my shower and various other things I bought in and unlock the door.

"You're ridiculous" I say plainly crossing my arms across my chest.

"You're beautiful" he grins cockily and I blush.

"You're trying to sleep with me again"

"You might be right"

I laugh and stand up on my tip toes to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "I'm going to get dressed now; we have a Victory Rally at noon." And with that I leave him to his own devices while I take my clothes and makeup in to one of the spare rooms.

I open several doors before I find a bedroom that looks as though it has never been touched since Haymitch had been 'rewarded' the house twenty-five years ago. I pull on the ruby red, belted dress that goes exactly with the scarf and gloves. _Gloves_! I think, remembering that I left them on the mantel piece those few weeks back and make a mental note to remember them. I do my makeup in front of the ornate gold mirror and bundle all of my blonde curls under my wig which should hopefully offer some protection from the cold.

I gather up everything, take it downstairs and leave my suitcase by the door ready to leave later on. The shirt I have been wearing for the past few hours is draped over the crook of my elbow and I bring it up to smell it. Whisky and pine trees. I smile to myself as I realise that this is now a scent I can relate with being safe and warm.

_Safe._ That's a word I never thought I would associate with Haymitch Abernathy. Rude, drunk maybe but never safe. I have seen a completely new side to this man in the past few days, a side I would like to see more of.

I fold the shirt neatly and find something to write on and with. I find a newspaper and tear the corner from one of the pages and take a pen from the side of the table and quickly scrawl down a note:

_We really should do this more often_

_Yours, _

_Effie _

I fold up the paper and stuff it into the pocket of his shirt and leave it on the back of the armchair hoping that it won't be washed anytime soon.

I move to sit down on the sofa when there is a knock at the door. When I still hear running water from upstairs I decide I had better answer it.

When I open the door I see a woman with chocolate brown hair tied up messily in a bun holding a small girl with dark blonde hair in a short straight ponytail.

"Oh, hello, I'm Hazelle Hawthorne. I come round to clean the house every few days."

"Ahh yes, come inside." I step aside and let her in. She walks over to the sofa and places the girl down.

"I hate to trouble you but could you possibly watch Posy for a few minutes while I tidy? She's off sick from pre-school today."

"Of course, it's no trouble." I say sitting down next to the small girl playing with a doll that looks as if it had been passed down a couple of generations before it got to her. She sits looking at me for a minute and I can't help but feel slightly self-conscious which is ridiculous because she is only about four or five.

"Is red your favourite colour?" She asks out of the blue, looking at my dress.

"No, my favourite colour is pink." I smile and her face lights up.

"Pink is my favourite colour too!" She bounces up and down on the sofa cushions and I can't help but smile "But, if your favourite colour is pink, why don't you wear a pink dress?" her expression changes into one of confusion.

"Because, sometimes it's nice to have a change, don't you agree?"

She nods but then frowns. "Mommy say's I have to keep this dress nice because we can't afford another one for a while."

Tears begin to form in my eyes but I push them back, not wanting to cry. But I want to do so much more than cry, I want to scream and shout as loud as I can and ask the president if he thinks it is okay that a small child should be in danger of not being clothed properly. If he thinks that making twenty-four children fight to the death because of something that happened almost seventy-five years ago is helping keep the districts in line because all I can see is a rebellion starting to take shape under his 'all-powerful' rule.

I shake my head and decide to keep these questions in my head as I would probably be shot if I let them slip.

"Hello Posy." Haymitch says, walking down the stairs to where we're sat.

"Haymish!" she calls out and we both laugh.

"You're just in time Haymitch; we have ten minutes to get to the square before the rally." I say and he nods walking over to the fireplace. He takes my red gloves from the marble hearth and throws them in my direction.

"I believe these are yours."

"Thank you Haymitch, I almost forgot them. Again." I slip the red leather over my hands and grab my white ermine coat from the back of the sofa, pulling it over my arms and feeling instant warmth.

"Right, we had better be going then." I say standing and walking towards the door, Haymitch at my heels.

"Thank you, Hazelle." Shouts Haymitch over his shoulder.

"No problem Haymitch, have a nice Harvest Festival. Both of you." She says emerging from the kitchen and I nod my head in thanks.

"You to."

We make our way out into the snow and I begin to wish I had ordered a car to take us to the square.

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**A/N: hope you guys liked it! Continue to review, favourite etc.**

**With love ~H x**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hi guys! I apologise for the lateness of this chapter, I've just been feeling a bit lazy recently… Also, I just want to say that while writing this chapter, the song I was listening to was 'never let me go' by Florence and the machine… I love it, it's just….Ahh! You guys must listen to it, it's awesome! Well anyway on with the chapter!**

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"I guess this is where we say goodbye…"

"I guess it is."

I look down at the suitcase placed against the wall of Haymitch's living room, a melancholy feeling suddenly washing over me. I pick it up by its handle and whey it in my palm.

I don't want to leave; I want to stay here where there is something for me to occupy myself with. Of course, I have an interview tomorrow evening but after that, the excitement of the Tour will die down and everyone will return to their normal everyday lives, myself included.

"You have to promise to write-or call; I've heard you have a new phone." I say with a half-smile playing on my lips. He shrugs.

"I will until I tear it outta the wall again."

"You will not tear it out of the wall again;" I scold "do you promise?"

"Okay, I promise." He says in an offhand manner.

My face breaks out into a full smile and I pull him in for a hug which is proving quite difficult while carrying a case at the same time. "I'll miss you, you old drunk."

"I'll miss you to, princess."

He pulls away and rests his hand on my cheek. "I really will."

I nod, "I know, so will I." I put my hand on top of his and place it on my waist. He smiles to himself before pressing his lips to mine.

I let the suitcase fall to the floor and wrap my arms round his neck, never wanting the kiss to end. He snakes both arms round waist and pulls me that little bit closer to him coaxing a sigh from the back of my throat.

I break the kiss, looking him in the eye. "I'm going to miss my train." I say sadly, but knowing that if I do I will get into a fair amount of trouble. He nods but as I make a move for the door, he grabs my wrist pulling me back into his arms and into his lips.

The kiss this time is much shorter but most definitely not lacking in passion. Haymitch pulls away this time and says in a disconsolate manner, "You're right, I'll walk you."

I nod, a smile creeping onto my lips, and pick up the suitcase from the floor.

We spend the short walk to the station without touching or talking, presumably not to let on there is something going on between the two of us and trying to seem as normal as possible - and by normal I mean resenting each other.

Within five minutes we have arrived at the small brick-clad building that serves as the train station. The lustrous machine seems to stretch for miles in both directions when stood on the snow coated platform and when the sun comes out from behind a cloud I have to squint to refrain from being blinded by its incandescent surface.

"Well, goodbye again." I shrug and he smiles down at the floor, shifting his feet around.

"Goodbye again."

I pull him in for a hug and put my lips next to his ear. "Take care of yourself," I say "don't do anything stupid."

He snorts. "No promises there. Okay, I'm sorry, I will."

I pull away and press my lips to the corner of his where they linger for a moment. My head is saying walk away now in case someone is watching but my heart is almost screaming to move my lips just over an inch to the right and kiss him properly.

I listen to my head and bid my goodbyes to the man I have grown especially fond of over the past few weeks, but as I am walking over to the train, I realise I listen to my head a little too much.

I stop walking and sigh deeply as what I do probably won't go unnoticed but somehow when I send my suitcase clattering to the ground for the second time today and take off in his direction, it seems so incredibly right.

He staggers back when I press my lips to his with as much force as I can muster; obviously not expecting me to return at all, but after regaining his balance he returns the kiss. It's short and sweet but just the right kind of goodbye.

I say nothing else as I go to pick up my suitcase and board the train; everything I needed to say was in that kiss.

I sigh a little when my feet hit the carpeted floors of the train and I feel the heat from the radiators warming my skin almost instantly. I'm about to sink into one of the armchairs but before I do, I feel a pull on my arm.

I look round and see Portia, a look of perplexity and stupefaction written across her face. She pulls me down next to her on one of the sofas at the far end of the room, away from doors and prying ears.

"Do you want to explain what that was?" she asks almost sounding as stern as my mother. I gaze heavenward trying to think of a viable reason but can't so I just come out with one simple word.

"No," I shake my head and more words tumble out, "Wait, how-how did you even see that?"

"They have these magical things on this train called windows." She replies sarcastically and I put my head in my hands. She puts her arm around me in an attempt at comfort.

"Effie, what were you thinking? Have you lost your mind? This kind of thing…it's forbidden. You know what will happen if-"

"Yes, I know." I snap, instantaneously regretting my harsh tone. After all, she is only caring. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I just don't understand why we aren't free to love who we want."

"Wait, you love him?"

"I don't know." I throw my head back into my hands in exasperation and sigh, willing the world to disappear altogether.

"Oh, Effie… you always fall for the wrong ones." She says barely louder than a whisper, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"What do you mean?" I lift my head and look her in the eye.

"Two words, Seneca Crane." She laughs and although I am trying to suppress my amusement, I laugh to.

"Oh, that's not fair. A, you liked him too and b, I had been friends with him since I was ten so it was bound to not work out."

"But in all matter of seriousness though… Haymitch?" She questions and I shrug nonchalantly.

"He really isn't that bad. He's quite the gentleman, when he wants to be and when he isn't completely intoxicated."

She nods, "I'll take your word for it. Now, come on we'll be late for dinner."

* * *

I stand in the wings of the stage, watching as Caesar Flickerman greets the audience, his signature midnight blue suit twinkling as he moves underneath the lights.

I look down at the almost non-existent microphone clipped to the neckline of the black lace dress I bought especially for the occasion, and decide it is probably not the best thing to fiddle with.

I would've most likely stayed in the wings for the whole show if I hadn't been nudged forward by an attendant when my name was called.

I walk toward the centre of the stage, a smile plastered on to my face and a confident spring in my step, where Caesar greets me and kisses me on the hand before leading me over to my seat.

"Well, thank you for coming to the show today. We're very glad you could make it." He says taking his seat and crossing one leg over the other.

"And I am very glad to be here." I say smiling

"So," he shuffles around in his chair obviously trying to get comfortable, "how have you found your first victory tour?"

"Tiring," I say and the audience laughs, "Although I have rather enjoyed seeing the rest of Panem, even if that was the insides of Justice Buildings."

"Well, from what I understand, that was your first _and_ last Victory Tour. Is it true that you are giving up your position as Escort?" He asks and there are small gasps and whispers from the audience.

"Yes Caesar, that is true." I say eliciting more conversation from the audience.

"Do you want to tell us a little bit about that? Why is it exactly that you're resigning?"

"Well, I just thought that I am not getting any younger and that I should settle down and start the family I have always wanted. While I still can." I say truthfully and he nods.

"Is there anyone you have in mind?" he asks grinning and I can't help but let out a small laugh.

"No." I say smiling and looking down at my feet, neatly crossed at the ankles.

"You have the exact same look about you as Peeta Mellark did last year in his pre-game interview. I'm not sure I believe you…" he says obviously trying to coax a name out of me.

I look up and meet his gaze, my eyes asking all the questions I can't out loud. _Do you know? _

He seems to understand exactly what I am trying to say as he gives an almost imperceptible nod of his head. From this simple gesture I lose all hope of hiding mine and Haymitch's relationship and one thought hits me like a ton of bricks. If he knows then the President definitely will.

"No, I have no one in mind at the minute. No serious relationships." The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them and I realise how selfish I must sound to anyone who already knows.

The last few minutes of the interview pass by in a haze and I try to answer most of the questions as truthfully as possible even though my mind keeps flashing back to that one question._ Is there anyone you have in mind? _Yes there is, in fact if he dropped down on one knee and asked me to marry him, I probably would.

Caesar bids me goodnight with a kiss on the hand and I continue to smile warmly until I get off the stage where I practically tear the microphone from the collar of my dress and throw it to the ground.

As I walk down the streets of the Capitol to my apartment, I can't stop the tears running down my cheeks. If he saw it, I will have hurt him greatly if he feels the same way about me as I do about him.

Once in my apartment I waste no time pouring myself a glass of red wine and downing the whole thing in one figuring I will have to be quite drunk to make the phone call I hope I will never have to again.

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**A/N: Well, there it is guys! I'm not sure what to think of that last paragraph but I really didn't know how to end this chapter so I just settled for that. I'm gonna need some ideas of things that can happen during Effie's time in the Capitol. I already have some ideas of things she can do but I just need a few more so if you have any, either leave them in a review or PM me. Continue reading and chapter 12 will be up soon!**

**~H x**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the lateness of the chapter, I've just gone back to school and then well… Les Miserables happened…. I swear I've been crying for the past 4 days! If you haven't seen it, GO AND WATCH IT! Thank me later…. But anyway, here's the next chapter! (sorry it's quite a short one…)**

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The first thing I am aware of when I wake up is the persistent pounding in the back of my head. I manage to open my eyes just enough to see the fluorescent letters of the clock, reading just past eleven. Thank God I have nothing to do today.

I roll over onto my back and sigh deeply, feeling incredibly sick all of a sudden. I throw my arms back against the covers and it's only when my hand hits something hard that my mind wakes up and my eyes open properly.

I sit bolt upright and see someone lying in my bed. _Wait, _this isn't even my bed.

At first I begin to panic but then realise that the fact my head is pounding and my stomach feels like it's being put through a washing machine probably suggests that I got drunk last night. Very drunk.

I swing my feet out of the side of the bed and pick up a discarded shirt presumably from the blotted out events of last night and take slow and cautious steps round to the other side of the bed as to not wake whoever is still sleeping in the other side.

I half expect to see Haymitch lying there but then I remember, very vaguely I might add, the phone call last night. I particularly remember saying things I rather wish I hadn't.

I shake my head and try to rid myself of the memories of last night which, with the help of the alcohol, are becoming slightly less prominent in my mind.

I bend down next to the sleeping man and examine his features which are concealed by a few strands of coffee brown hair. I sweep them to the side, careful not to wake him as I do and frown when I realise that I don't recognise him. Great, a one night stand with a mystery man I don't even know the name of is all I need on my conscience.

I stand up and begin to saunter sleepily towards a room which I presume is the bathroom but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear the man stir behind me. "Hey," he murmurs drowsily and I close my eyes.

"Hey," I reply turning around and wringing my hands together awkwardly. "I'm sorry; your shirt was the first thing I found on the floor." I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself but somehow it seems like the right thing to do.

"Shirts suit you. Actually I'm pretty sure that one suits you better than me."

"So I've been told," I frown a little recalling memories from not too long ago.

We both stay silent waiting for the other to speak but before the awkwardness can get ridiculous I make a prompt exit into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I look at myself in the mirror and note just how much of a wreck I look. My makeup from last night is smudged in just about every region of my face and my hair a matted mess on the side of my head. Since there is no sign of a hairbrush anywhere, I have to make do with my fingers.

I wash off the previous day's makeup and groan when I realise that I don't have any with me. The worst part is I don't even know where I am, I could be on the other side of the Capitol for all I know!

When I leave the bathroom I am surprised to see that the curtains are open and the bed looks as if it hasn't been slept in. I also note that my clothes have neatly been folded over the back of a chair in front of a dressing table.

After dressing in the previous day's ensemble, I open various doors leading to hidden closets and store cupboards in the walls before eventually finding the door leading to the rest of the apartment.

Most of the walls are made up of glass looking out over the rest of the city, not a great deal unlike my own home, except the furniture is a deep navy blue instead of a pretty shade of lilac. On the walls hang some old looking paintings all hanging in slightly faded gold frames, occupying almost every free space.

I look around for any sign of the mystery man but when I appear to be the only living thing in the whole apartment, I head towards the door.

"Leaving so soon?"

I jump and turn round and see the man stood behind me wearing a cocky grin and holding what looks to be a cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry; I didn't think you were still here." I say taking a few steps away from the door. "Actually," I begin after a few seconds pause, "I was sort of hoping that maybe we could talk about last night. I mean, I don't even know your name."

He laughs and walks over to me, extending a hand. "Marius."

"Marius," I muse, taking his hand. "And I'm-"

"Effie, I know. I saw you on the Caesar Flickerman show last night."

I frown, wishing I could forget the whole thing all together.

"Well as nice as it is to have a beautiful woman in my apartment, I have to go to work - so did you want to get a drink later?"

I run the proposal over in my mind a few times. Am I ready to do this again? Start a new relationship when I'm not entirely sure I have gotten over the last one? Maybe it was the best for both of us that we broke it off when we did, after all what we were doing was wrong and incredibly dangerous. Yet somewhere in the danger and wrongdoing was a feeling of incredible rightness.

"Yes, that would be lovely."

* * *

"Okay," says Marius placing his third – maybe fourth empty glass on the varnished mahogany bar. "A relationship you thought would work that didn't."

"Do I have to answer that question?" I moan taking a reserved sip from a glass of red wine. To my dismay he nods and I sigh.

I don't really know why we are using our pasts as a topic of conversation but it is turning out into a rather amusing game, especially when topics like 'the funniest thing you've done when drunk' come up.

"Right," I begin in a measured voice, knowing full well I am going to regret it. "A short while ago, I kissed someone I perhaps shouldn't have. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment kind of things and it sort of escalated from there really. We got to know each other and I started thinking _what if_, but then in the end… I screwed it up big time – which is a shame. I saw a completely different side to him, a caring and friendly side and the one thing that really does kill me is that I never got to tell him how I felt."

I only realise I'm crying when a salty tear falls to the corner of my lips but I am quick to brush it away and smile like there is nothing is wrong.

"I'll walk you home." He says in a serious yet caring demeanour and I can do nothing but allow him to lead me through the rainy streets of the Capitol and to my apartment.

"Well this is me." I shrug once we reach the front door and he does likewise.

"Goodnight then," he says and I smile.

"Goodnight." I move to kiss him on the cheek but he skilfully catches my lips with his. At first I don't kiss him back but then once I realise that there is nothing more to lose, I do.

Clothes are clumsily discarded throughout the room and kisses are placed just about anywhere within reason on the way to the bedroom.

Once there I pull down and kick off the dress that was left around my waist, leaving me in my underwear and feeling oddly exposed. I push down the feeling and crawl on top of him, my lips lingering a few times on his bare chest before meeting his lips hungrily.

Every time I kiss him or he kisses me, there is something oddly wrong with it. A strange emotion that I can't quite put my finger on but it's something that leaves my stomach and heart feeling hollow and empty.

"Wait," I say and he stops kissing down my abdomen to look me in the eye.

"What's wrong?" he asks sitting upright on the mattress.

I shake my head, telling myself that I'm being ridiculous. "Nothing," I lie and for a moment I'm not sure he believes me but after some motivation he returns his lips gingerly to mine.

Throughout the entire night I can only think of one person, that infuriatingly wonderful person. Haymitch Abernathy.

* * *

**A/N: Again guys sorry for the lateness and shortness of this chapter but I have been revising for prelims coming next week but once they are over, I will probably have a little more time on my hands for writing. I feel like the ending is rushed but I'm feeling quite tired tonight... Oh and another thing you fellow Les Mis fans out there reading this will have noticed is 'Marius'. I don't know why I decided to name him that but when I was scouring the internet for names, I found it on a website for Roman names and not only do I love the name, it also fits in with SC's name choice (that made no sense and was completely unnecessary but hey!) Anyway, I'm going to go to bed now because it is ten past ten, I'm tired and I have school tomorrow so goodnight! Continue to review, like, fave… you know the drill.**

**Love you all! ~ H x**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So I finally updated! I'm sorry it's been numerous weeks but I have had prelims and have been revising for my Music GCSE final exam in the summer (I have to learn about 60 facts for each of the 12 pieces…) and I would've updated yesterday but my mum was taken into hospital so I was a bit preoccupied. Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is lacking in hayffie but the next few chapters will hopefully include some of what you came here for ;) Anywho, on with the chapter! **

* * *

I fold up the paper neatly and place it on top of the others in the desk draw. They are the letters I have written every day for the past two weeks but have found myself unable to send.

Haymitch and I haven't _really _spoken since we argued over the phone, the only times being strictly about work and void of any real emotion, the unspoken arrangement being that being that we discus work and _only _work. Each time I speak to him, it is becoming increasingly harder not to pour my heart out to him over the phone.

"Good morning," says Marius from behind me, leaning over and placing a kiss on my cheek. I almost laugh when I realise I had forgotten completely about him being here. "You're quiet, are you alright?"

"Mhm, just thinking." I hum gazing wistfully out at the city below.

"Don't think too much, you'll create a problem that wasn't even there in the first place. That's what my mother would say."

"She sounds like fun." I smile rising up from my seat and pulling the knot in his tie slightly to the left so that it is perfectly central.

He chuckles and I smile finally taking my hands off his tie and shake my head. "You're going to be late."

He sighs deeply before leaning in and kissing me lightly on the lips. "Have fun at work," I call after him as he pulls on a deep navy pinstripe jacket and heading for the door. When he is half in the hallway he pokes his head back round the door, "you too."

I almost swear out loud when I realise that he is right. Today I am holding the interviews for the new escort for Twelve. He or she will start the year after the Quell as they will need to be trained properly to ensure the job is done well. _Doesn't take much skill to take children to their death, sweetheart. _I bite my lip as I recall one of the numerous arguments Haymitch and I have had over the years. I suppose they won't need any training to deal with his drunken endeavours, not that I was really prepared for the world I was about to walk in to.

I dress smartly and grab a jacket and bag before I head out of the apartment and onto the bustling streets of rush hour in the Capitol. It is mid-February but the air still has a bite to it so I pull the cerulean satin jacket closer around my arms as I work my way through the crowds.

The interviews are held in one of the meeting rooms in the Training Centre and upon arrival I am greeted by a handshake and a clipboard. I am led through numerous corridors and passageways that I don't recognise before a door is held open and I am instructed to go inside.

The room is plain and painted an industrial grey and the only furniture is a table with two chairs on either side. There is a clock next to the window at the far end of the room and a small potted plant adds the only bit of colour to the room, other than me.

I take the seat facing the door and drape my jacket over the back of the chair. As I wait for the allocated time at which candidates will begin arriving, I flick through the papers on the clipboard.

4… 5… 6 pages full of names of applicants. I suppose it just goes to show that anyone in the Capitol is willing to do anything just to work with the two shiny new victors.

After five minutes or there about, I begin putting lines through names and writing notes beside each one as they file through in alphabetical order. Some men, some women. Some tall, some small. Some with potential and some completely useless.

Three hours and a little over two-hundred applicants later, I feel as if I am about to fall into the brink of insanity. All the time I am trying to find someone who both Katniss and Peeta will like which is proving quite a challenge. Some of the worst applicants I know that Katniss would gladly jump over the table and throttle within a matter of minutes. Mind you, if she can put up with me then she can put up with just about anyone.

The two-hundred and fifty-something candidate catches my eye. I look down at the list and see that her name is Electra Star. She has co-ordinated her outfit to match her name which I think is rather clever. She is young and must only just fit in the age category.

The main attraction to the outfit is the electric blue leather jacket that I would quite happily add to my own wardrobe; the black military style boots completely draw away all essence of 'Capitol' and I secretly pray that she will be as down-to-earth as she looks.

"Look, before you say anything I know that I'm not exactly escort material," she gestures to herself. "But I can scrub up, I will work hard and if I'm being brutally honest, I need the money."

I stop tapping my pen on the table when I realise that she is just as I was when I came for the job at eighteen. Desperate and needing work.

"I'm not one to judge a book by its cover."

I run through the compulsory questions and the more she talks, the more I realise that she is the one I want to follow in my footsteps. Katniss will probably like her, if you take away the fact that they are from two very different places, they aren't remarkably unlike.

It becomes clear that she is not in it for the fame; she needs this job just like I did.

It is this thought that motivates me to inform the Games Board of my decision the same afternoon.

* * *

"She really is wonderful, I think you and Katniss will like her. The two are very alike."

"That's great but you don't think they will completely repel each other?" Asks Peeta from the other end of the phone.

"I think Katniss can repel just about anyone." I say taking the mug of tea over to the coffee table and slumping down on the sofa.

"That's very true. We will miss you though."

"Speak for yourself." I laugh trying to fend off tears.

"No, we all will just some of us won't want to admit it. I know Haymitch will miss you."

"Don't be silly, he won't miss me. You know how he is, he hates my guts."

"I've always thought that there is a very fine line between love and hate. For a time Katniss hated me but that didn't stop me from being completely head over heels in love with her." He speaks evenly and I am taken aback by what he is saying.

He is right about everything and I realise now that you can hate someone more and more each day but you will never love them less. Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting them not to and only now do I realise that I completely trust Haymitch.

"Those are very wise words but I don't love him and he doesn't love me," my breath catches on the last word and there is a knock at the door. "In fact, I think my boyfriend is on the other side of the door right now. Send my love to Katniss and just- just tell Haymitch I'm sorry. He knows what for."

With that, we bid each other goodbye and hang up. There is another knock at the door and I swiftly stand up and brush the remnants of a biscuit from my skirt. I don't recall Marius telling me he was coming over. Maybe it's supposed to be a surprise

I open the door and am completely surprised to see who is stood on the other side.

"Tell him yourself."

* * *

**A/N: Ohhh drama! How do you all think this is going to go? I have some small fluffy ideas of what could happen in the next few chapters but I am open to suggestions so please feel free. I don't feel like I tell you guys this enough but anyone who is a keen writer on here will know how much reviews matter and how nice it is to get them. If you don't then all I can say is its pretty epic :) So I don't want to put pressure on you guys to review but it really does mean the world to me so yeah… I know I say this every chapter but I will ****_try _****and update faster next time.**

**Lots of love ~ H x **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hi everyone! Well, I've been a good author and updated relatively quickly this time :) I don't think I have anything to say so on with chapter 14!**

* * *

"Tell him yourself."

I stand by the door, my mouth agape and quickly shake my head trying to comprehend why Haymitch Abernathy is stood outside my door. Mixes of emotions come with seeing him again, predominantly confusion but also anger and a small amount of happiness. I want to hit him for being able to have such an unintentionally strong hold on me.

"Haymitch… Wh-what are you doing here?" I stutter and try to pull myself together as quickly as possible.

"I told Plutarch Heavensbee you let me stay at yours." He says this in the most offhanded way possible and I want to hit him again.

He makes a move for the door but I block his way. "No, I asked 'what are you doing here'?" I attempt to sound as stern as possible and put my hands on my hips.

"I'm here on business, sweetheart. Not that it's any of yours." He leans on the door frame forcing me to back up a few steps.

"Oh, okay," I laugh bitterly trying to keep my composure "you expect to just turn up at my apartment without a word of warning, not tell me why you're actually here and me to welcome you with open arms? Goodbye." I make a move to shut the door but he stops it with his foot.

"I can't exactly tell you that right now, princess. I will later."

I laugh again. "I could count the number of times you have said that and not _actually_ told me on one hand-If I was holding a calculator. I'm sorry but you can't come in."

"Well sweetheart," he steps even closer, his face a dangerous amount of inches from mine. "What you don't realise is that I'm already in."

I look around and see that he is right. All the time I have been walking backwards as he has forwards.

"I think the words you're searching for are 'welcome to my home, Haymitch. Help yourself to my alcohol.'"

I scowl and purse my lips as his suitcase hits the floor with a dull semi-permanent thud. The next few days are going to be very interesting.

* * *

"Do you think parmentier or dauphinois potatoes would go better with this?" I indicate the peppercorn sauce I am currently stirring in the hope that soon it will look a little bit less like something Haymitch would throw up.

"Princess, do you really think I know what either of those are?" Haymitch sits up on the sofa and looks at me like I came down in the last shower. "They're just potatoes."

I roll my eyes. "Actually they're very different. Besides, surely you've eaten at enough fine establishments to know the difference." I quickly taste the sauce and find that it doesn't taste quite as horrific as it looks.

Haymitch snorts and gets up from where he is sat. "Yeah but I can't remember what happened last night let alone the last time I went to some la-di-da Capitol restaurant." He saunters over to the kitchen, a glass of whisky dangling limply in his hand. I swear, if he breaks my best crystal I shall-

"Princess, you're doing it wrong." I jump when Haymitch whispers in my ear from behind me, alcohol prominent on his breath.

"What exactly am I doing wrong?" I ask, feeling a blush creeping onto my cheeks at being so close to him. _Pull yourself together Effie,_ I scold myself and shake my head.

"If you keep stirring it, it won't cook." He states matter of factly and hooks his arms through the gap between my elbows and waist, prying the spoon from my hands.

Somewhere along the way his hand finds mine. I'm not sure if it was an accident or he intended to but since neither he nor I let go, I have to presume the latter. I rather enjoy holding his hand, the way mine just fits perfectly inside of his… Dear lord, what is wrong with me?

I just manage to turn around in the small amount of space to face him, my body dangerously close to his. It is not until I look into his grey eyes that I realise just how much I have missed him.

He moves forward a few inches as if to kiss me. I move back a little, not because I don't want to kiss him – of course I do, but the last time we let one small kiss get out of hand, we took a huge and incredibly stupid risk. One I don't think should be reprised.

My hands grip the work surface behind me, or at least I assume it's the work surface until I feel a searing pain run across the entirety of my left wrist.

I immediately withdraw my hand and look round to see that I was in fact, leaning on the cooker. I look back to Haymitch and see that he is suppressing a laugh. Immediately anger begins to boil up inside me.

"Don't you dare laugh Abernathy! I mean it, this damn well hurts!" I slap him hard in the arm with my right hand with as much strength as I can muster.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. Surely not painful enough for her royal highness to use such foul language." He receives a death glare.

"Do something!" I shout after a silence, suddenly feeling incredibly impatient.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks as if it is the most unreasonable thing in the world. I brush it off anyway as I begin to feel incredibly whiney.

"I don't know… find a bandage or something…"

"I don't think I need to point this out but we are in _your_ apartment."

"No you didn't." I mumble as I lead him to a cupboard in one of the bathrooms which holds a few simple medical supplies. I move to open the cupboard but Haymitch stops me with his arm.

"Go and sit down somewhere and I'll bring this stuff through." I'm about to protest but when he gives me a look I oblige.

I move out of the room and go to sit at one of the chairs around the dining table. I remove my hand cautiously from my wrist and cringe when I examine the long thin blister beginning to take shape and swell. Haymitch saunters in a few minutes later and I'm about to scold him for punctuality but decide against it as he has shown me nothing but kindness as of yet.

He sits silently in front of me and grins when he sees the rather unattractive blister on my wrist.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask coldly.

"I'm smiling because you're making a fuss over nothing." He makes a grab for my hand but I instantly snatch it away and he sighs deeply.

"Sweetheart, I can't do anything if you don't give me your hand." I still don't move and he goes to stand up and leave.

_"Oh Effie, what on earth have you done?" I had limped into the living room sheepishly after grazing my knee in the back garden that day._

_"I was-I was trying to catch a butterfly but it went across the fence so I tried to climb up." I sniffled trying to cover the grass stain on the left side of the white satin. It didn't work. _

_"I have told you before that climbing about is not the way a young lady should ac- What have you done?" Mothers tone had instantly harshened as she prised my hand roughly away from the ruined dress. I braced myself for the shouted lecture on how much she hated my adventurous side and she wished I would just stay inside and read a book like 'normal' girls my age. _

_She would take me down to the bathroom and place a small square of iodine on the affected area that stung like nothing I've ever felt before and left your skin yellow for the next five days. She would then send me to bed with a smacked behind and no dinner._

_Whenever I hurt myself I would look for my father who would cover the wound with a delicate cotton bandage and kiss the top of it gently. He would then carry me around on his shoulders for the remainder of the day much to my mother's disdain who thought he was babying me and I needed to face the fact that life isn't always fair. It was safe to say that I preferred my father._

This time I make a grab for Haymitch's hand, pulling him back to his seat. "I'm sorry, it just hurts."

He takes my hand carefully in his and holds a cold, damp wash cloth to my wrist for a few minutes, apologising when I wince.

"So why are you here Haymitch?" I ask after a few minutes spent in silence.

"I told you, I'm here on business." He doesn't look up from the bandage he is carefully wrapping around my wrist and eventually ties a tight knot at the end.

"What kind of business?" I ask as I stand up from my chair and push it back under the table.

"Business with Plutarch Heavensbee ," He does the same and stands in front of me "I help him with the Quarter Quell and he gives me free alcohol."

I stop him when he tries to walk out of the room. "You're lying. There is no way in hell that you would help design a Hunger Games. I may be from the Capitol but I'm not stupid."

He shakes his head obviously not knowing what to say.

"Whatever you and Plutarch are doing, whatever you're planning, I want in."

"You can't know what we're doing Effie."

I sigh audibly, my patience wearing thin. "Why not?"

He swears under his breath before taking my face in his hands and kissing me. I don't expect it and stumble back a little but it is over as soon as it began and I find I am stood alone in the middle of the room, Haymitch having left moments before. Is that why he won't tell me? Because he has some unspoken feelings for me?

As I bring my fingertips to my lips, I decide that I have to find out what he and Plutarch are up to, even if it kills me.

* * *

**A/N: Ohhh yay! Hayffie's back guys! Well I'm dying to know what you all thought so please feel free to leave a review on your way out :) Look out for the next chapter soon! **

**~H x**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hi everyone, I have literally just gone back to school and have a lot of homework to get done but I decided that I would update today despite my busy schedule. I'm sorry this chapter jumps around so much but I've had awful writers block and wasn't sure what to write but this is the first thing that came to mind so I'm sorry if it's bad :( Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"So you really trust me with your apartment for a whole night?"

"I did, now I'm not so sure." I'm stood in front of a mirror in the living room making final checks on my hair and makeup. Marius asked me to go out with him tonight and I, never refusing a night out, obliged. He told me to meet him at a rather fancy restaurant on the other side of the city.

"Which one do you think?" I ask holding out two diamond necklaces that, despite their similar appearance, are both very different in their own way. Haymitch shrugs from the sofa and points at one that just happens to be my preferred out of the two.

I smile as I hold out the thinly cut diamonds out to him and he stares at me blankly. "I need help."

"Fine," he mumbles, practically rolls off the sofa and comes to stand behind me. He takes the necklace from me and I pull my natural hair over my shoulder and hold it up a little. He places the diamonds across my neck and as I watch him in the mirror I see his brows knit together in concentration as he struggles with the minute clasp.

Eventually he manages to fasten it successfully but his hands linger around my shoulders for a moment before he lets them fall onto my skin. I stay silent and still not sure what to say or do but luckily he removes his hands before the silence can become unbearable.

It has been three days since Haymitch arrived and these small, intimate moments between the two of us have been happening rather frequently. It makes it extremely clear just what his intentions are and I wonder whether I am causing him intense frustration and annoyance when I do not say nor do anything to mirror his actions.

"Well, have fun anyways. Not too much fun mind you." I roll my eyes at his backhanded comment and attempt to brush off the 'moment'.

"Who are you, my father?" I smile and he returns the gesture. "Anyway, I'm going now. Now, while I'm not here: don't get too drunk, try not to set fire to anything and most importantly don't you dare throw up on my new carpet."

"Your confidence in me is astounding, Princ-" he gags and I instantly move forward in an attempt to push him towards the wooden floors instead of the carpet but he instantly straightens up and starts laughing as he brings his glass to his lips.

"You're not funny, Abernathy."

"Jeez, you need to lighten up sweetheart." He slumps down on the sofa, looking pleased with his actions and I search for something to hurl in his direction but decide against it and head out of the door instead.

* * *

When I reach the restaurant, it appears to be void of all life from the outside. There is no one in the windows even though the lights are on and I can't help but wonder if I have the right place. I figure that even if I don't, I can still go in to ask for directions.

I push open the glass and chrome door to reveal one of the most beautiful establishments I have probably ever been to.

The carpets are a rich, deep crimson and the walls a warm shade of cream. There are crystal chandeliers cascading down from the ceiling, some holding rocks as large as side plates. There is a man stood by the door in a neatly pressed uniform who I half expect to tell me to come back at opening time but instead, he takes my coat and folds it over the crook of his elbow.

I peer round the corner of the archway, not at all sure what to expect. Whatever he has planned, he appears to have the whole restaurant in on it. I don't see anything but Marius sat at a table laughing at my somewhat unannounced entrance.

"Why are we the only people here?" I ask immediately when I sit down in the seat opposite him.

"Because I thought it would be nicer. More romantic." He takes my hand across the table and I can't help but notice how different it feels to holding Haymitch's. No – I refuse to think of him tonight. I don't say anything, only think what exactly he has planned as I have a small suspicion it won't just be dinner.

"So what exactly are we doing in this lovely restaurant if not to eat?" I question noticing that there are no glasses or cutlery on the table.

"Ah, you caught me," he throws his hands up in mock defeat and I can't help but smile. "Well, I actually brought you here today because there is something I wanted to ask you."

My face hardens but I don't think he really notices.

"Effie, I know we have only known each other for about a month or so and our relationship didn't really get off to a really great start," he begins and I allow myself a small laugh. "But I genuinely feel that you could be the one for me and I hope you feel the same way. I'll be honest and the thought of you being with any other man makes me want to die. I don't really remember the first night I saw you but I remember waking up the next morning next to the most beautiful woman I have ever known. My father said when I was young that if you ever find a girl that's too good for you… marry her."

My heart stops for a moment and I sit completely motionless as he pulls a small blue velvet box from his trouser pocket. "So Effie, will you marry me?"

* * *

I find myself walking back to my apartment leaving Marius with some stupid excuse and a promise to meet him back at his place. I look down at the ring on the finger left for that truly special person and notice just how wrong it feels. I begin to question my own judgement, why did I say yes? Of all the stupid, selfish things I've done this tops it all off with a cherry.

As soon as I open the door to my apartment I sink down the wood and end up on the floor. I almost forget Haymitch is here until he speaks. "Is her royal highness all alone? And back so soon."

"Just don't, Haymitch." I mumble my head on my knees. I hear him walk across the apartment and sit down next to me, back on the door. "I've done something completely stupid and I don't know what to do." I say barely louder than a whisper.

I know he is rolling his eyes when he says, "Okay, what have you done?"

I can't find myself even to tell him, if he feels the way I think he does it will break his heart. "He asked me to marry him and I said yes." I hold up my left hand and he inhales sharply.

"Well, what's the problem then? You said it yourself on that interview, all you've ever wanted is to settle down with the man you love… you do love him don't you?"

"What does it matter." I look up from my knees and into his eyes.

"It matters to him." He looks down at the diamond ring on my forth finger and I do likewise.

"What do I do? Tell me what to do, Haymitch." I let a single tear fall down my cheek but quickly wipe it away.

"You need to tell him how you feel. You can't lead him along and let him believe you love him when you don't." He speaks evenly and carefully and I nod in return.

"It'll break him completely." I whisper and Haymitch shrugs.

"It's best to let him go now, the only other alternative is that you marry him and be unhappy for the rest of your life."

"I could learn to love him. Katniss learned to love Peeta didn't she?" What am I saying? I can't marry him; I don't now and will never be able to love him when there is someone I love so much more.

He shrugs again and stands up. "Personally I would take my advice but then again, who wouldn't?" he smiles and I know my decisions made. I wipe away any stray tears and pick up my jacket from the floor, pulling it round my shoulders and head out of the door.

* * *

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come back."

"I was going to leave this until tomorrow but then I realised that it couldn't wait." I say not bothering to take off my coat.

"You sound serious are you okay?" asks Marius taking hold of my hand.

I try to think of a slightly nicer way to say 'I'm sorry, I can't marry you because I realised that I actually don't love you' but can't so just settle for "I can't marry you."

He looks like he could die right there and then but then manages a small hopeful smile. "Well, you don't have to marry me; I can wait for longer if that's what you want."

I shake my head and take my hand from his. "I don't want you to have to wait for me. I want you to be able to live your life without having to wait. That's why I'm letting you go; you deserve someone so much better than me." I slip the diamond engagement ring from my finger.

"No, I don't want anyone else, I want you. Please." His voice is enough to break a heart, just not mine.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve this." I whisper placing the ring in his empty palm and close his fingers around it. "Goodbye," I say and place a lingering kiss on his cheek before leaving him stood alone and heartbroken in his living room.0

When I exit the building, I find that it is raining and curse myself for not taking an umbrella when I left. I pull the fabric of my jacket around me tightly even though it is soaked through in seconds as soon as I step out from the foyer.

There is the odd rumble of thunder coming from the mountains but I barely notice I just want to get home. By the time I reach my apartment, I am soaked through to the skin and goodness only knows what my hair and makeup must look like.

"Have you done it?" Is the first thing I hear when I open the door.

Haymitch is sat on the sofa with his habitual glass of whisky. I nod and walk straight through the room not wanting to get anything wet and also so that I don't start to cry. I walk into the bathroom and throw my jacket to the floor next to my ruined high heels. I also see just how ridiculous I look, the skin on my face streaked with thick black lines and my hair almost straight under the weight of water.

I lean over the sink and it's not until I see Haymitch lean against the door frame that I begin to sob. He sighs deeply and practically whispers, "come on". I accept the invitation into his arms gladly and rest my head against his chest while he rubs my back in an attempt to calm me down. "You're getting my shirt wet, Princess." He says quietly into my ear and I take my arms from round his waist.

"I'm sorry," I say not only for drenching his shirt but for being such a God-awful person.

"'s okay," He says and is about to walk off but I stop him.

"No, it's not okay. I'm not going to stand here and apologise for myself yet again. Whoever or whatever you think I am, I'm not. I'm just me, just Effie Trinket-"

"Look, wait a minute-"

"All I have ever wanted is for someone to love me for exactly who I am. Well here you go! This is me, this is it." I grab a cloth from one of the cupboards and begin to scrub off the numerous layers of makeup. "Under the mask, behind the makeup. It's just stupid, selfish, irritating me and I'm tired of having to change who I am, who I love just because and can't be or have what I want. I have been hurt so many times in the past and it's hard to have to try and break down those walls you've built up around yourself, to protect yourself but you have to. You have to because if you find someone you really care about then you've just got to go for it. Otherwise… what's the point? I've convinced myself to take an incredibly stupid but incredibly right risk with you right now, Haymitch. So here I am can you take a risk on me to?"

There is a split second where I think that he is going to just walk out of the door as he did the other day but he doesn't, he kisses me and I kiss him back.

He didn't have to answer the question. As he takes me to bed, it becomes quite clear what his answer is. He wants to take a risk on me.

* * *

**A/N: Yayyy okay! I don't really like the last two paragraphs too much but I just wanted to finish this chapter. I hope you guys liked it and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep reviewing! They keep my writing so yeah, now that I've nagged you ;) continue your fabulous support and I will see all you lovelies next chapter!**

**Until then my fellow fandom obsessed weirdoes ~ H x**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: OMG GUYSSSSS HAVE YOU SEEN THE EFFIE, CAESAR AND HAYMITCH PICTURES?! They're gorgeous and she's just far too pretty asdfghjkl… fangirling very hard right now :D Anyway, I will try and control my fingers to type the correct words for you so here is chapter 16.**

* * *

"Dad,"

His body lies on the concrete of the road, bloody, dishevelled and lifeless.

"Dad please, you need to wake up." I press my fingers to his neck for what must be the fifteenth time in the last minute, leaving two smudges of blood behind. Either mine or his, I'm not sure.

I look over to where the car is overturned, flames angrily lapping at the sky. The strange thing is I don't even know how it happened, one minute we were driving along the road to my Aunt Oppia's house and the next my head was against a smashed pane of glass.

My eyes are clouded up with tears and I can't see anything but blurry shapes. My head begins to pound and I bring my hand up to the large gash running across the length of my forehead. I manage to make out my mother who is limply sat up against a lamp post, unconscious but alive, which is more than I can say for my father. He's dead but I won't let myself admit it because as long as I don't, then there is still hope.

"Please, you can't leave us. Dad, please!" I'm hysterical now and tears are running down my cheeks and on to the ruined silk dress, stained with blood and some sort of black dust that seems to be raining down from all directions.

The ambulances are coming, I can hear them but they're too late. Too late to save my father.

He is looking skyward, his once lively deep blue eyes now dull and lifeless. I take hold of his hand in the two of mine but he doesn't squeeze it reassuringly as he used to when there was something wrong.

There is a pull at my arm and I look round to see a paramedic asking me to come with him.

"No, I can't-I can't leave him."

"Miss, please you need to come with us, you're hurt and you need attending to."

"No, please don't make me leave him. I don't want to leave him!" I scream hysterically and thrash around when two other paramedics try and take me away from the body of my father. More uniformed attendants crowd round his body, obscuring my vision. I try to get to him again but I feel a sharp jab in my arm and look down to see a rather large syringe filled with some sort of blue swirling liquid.

Almost instantly my body feels as if it is being weighed down with lead and floating at the same time. I topple backwards but I am caught before I can hit the ground.

One of the paramedics gets up to leave and suddenly it's not my father lying lifeless on the ground. It's Haymitch, looking just as he did on the day he won the Quell, his innards visible from a cut across his stomach.

Despite the odd feeling taking over, I manage a strangled cry.

"Scream all you want, it won't bring him back."

I recognise the voice and when I turn around, I see that it is no longer a paramedic holding me firmly by the forearms, it's the President.

"You know you can't love him, don't you?" he asks me as though I am some incompetent child but I don't reply.

"You are breaking all of the rules; it is against the law – an act of treason. I don't want to hurt you but you are leaving me with no other option." His grip around my arms tightens with every word until the pain is almost unbearable. My arms are covered with more blood than before and when he withdraws his hands I see that it was his fingers digging into my skin that has resulted in the intolerable pain.

There is a brief moment before I hit the ground full on when I hear what one of the paramedics has to say.

"Time of death, 14:21pm."

That's it – hope is gone.

* * *

I sit bolt upright in bed, clutching blindly at my arms. I breathe deeply and switch on the small bedside lamp, the room flooding with warm yellow light.

I examine my arms and see fingernail marks left all over the surface, some appear to have cut through the top layer of skin.

I have been having nightmares ever since Haymitch left a few days ago and briefly touching the stone cold covers on the other side of the bed only reminds me of his absence.

I am counting down the days to which I will finally be able to get out of the Capitol for a while. I am set to leave for Twelve in five days' time to help with Katniss' bridal shoot. It would've been sooner if she hadn't caught some sort of inconvenient illness but I suppose one cannot help these things.

I arrive early in the morning and then leave the same night on the first train back to the Capitol which is a shame as I wish I could stay and busy myself with things. Busying myself is my own peculiar way of coping with stress, which sometimes backfires and makes me even more stressed than I was in the first place.

I look at the clock and see that it is a little before dawn so take a quick trip to the bathroom and sit outside on my small balcony with a cup of chamomile tea.

In the surrounding sky-rise buildings, most of the curtains are still drawn indicating that most of the city is still sleeping. This thought is somewhat calming, a city that seemingly doesn't sleep is sleeping.

After I have watched the sky change from deep Egyptian blue to a sultry shade of lilac and then to a crystal like ultramarine, I decide to dress.

Cinna has asked me to meet him in his studio to have a look at the numerous wedding dresses he has made for Katniss. I would be lying if I said I wasn't about as excited as a child in the world's largest candy store.

I choose a dress with sleeves in hope that it will conceal the marks on my arms.

* * *

"Cinna, these are beautiful" I breathe completely transfixed on the six beautiful gowns in front of me.

"Thank you Effie," he says in his habitual gracious manner and I can't help but smile. I think it is beyond this man's capability to ever be in a bad mood.

"Can I touch them?" He motions for me to do so and I run my hands over lace, velvet and satin but I am utterly transfixed by one dress in particular.

It is made of heavy white silk that darts in ever so slightly at the waist and has sleeves that brush the ground at the tips. The fabric feels a little thicker than all of the others and it feels like it has more than one layer but under closer inspection all I find is more silk and more pearls.

"This one is my favourite," I state matter of factly and move to sit down in one of the chairs dotted around the avant-garde studio. "I'm not sure if Katniss will be able to choose."

"She won't have to," he goes back to sewing the hem up on a delicate lace gown.

"Pardon?"

"After the shoot photos have been approved and released, the President has ordered for a vote to take place for citizens of the Capitol."

I nod and watch as his fingers work with the greatest precision as he finishes sewing the fabric and ties the thread in a small, tight loop.

"Has the President seen the dresses yet?" I ask and he shakes his head no.

"He will only see the photos."

There is a pause before I ask in a childlike manner, "Will there be any fire involved?"

"I would be spoiling it if I told you but yes, I may have some tricks up my sleeve or rather Katniss' sleeve." He grins and I instantly know that he has designed the pearl and silk dress with something spectacular in mind.

"Well I can't wait to see what you have done" I say now even more eager to see what he has planned.

"It's a risk but it's worth it. Happiness is a risk. If you're not a little scared, then you're not doing it right."

"What do you mean? An 'I could end up burning Katniss to death' risk or a plain stupid risk?" It isn't meant to be funny but Cinna chuckles anyway.

"You'll have to wait and see." I frown at this suddenly feeling anxious for my good friend and colleague. Whatever it is, he must be behind it but even so, is it a risk that could get him or possibly even Katniss killed?

_"You are breaking all of the rules; it is against the law – an act of treason." _ The words from my dream flash back to me, is what he is planning going to be deemed treasonous, a subliminal reminder of the rebellion?

First, Katniss and Peeta with the nightlock, then Haymitch and I with our secret love affair and now Cinna and Portia with some defiant wedding gown, we are all as bad as each other.

* * *

"It's spreading quickly." Says Haymitch from beside me and I take note of the red and white flashing letters on the television screen.

'Many more Districts under lockdown, expect shortages.'

The statement is simple but says enough. The revolts aren't just going to stay in Four, Seven, Eight and Eleven for very much longer. Soon the whole country will be involved in a full scale rebellion.

Haymitch seems to know a lot more than the rest of us but I don't ask, he wouldn't tell me. He insists on my protection and inculpability and quite frankly, I am growing tired of arguing with him.

He is right though; there has been no seafood, fruit or vegetables for weeks now which is a complete cataclysm especially if you have a party planned. I know of several that have been cancelled for the sole reason being that there is simply not enough food. It is a completely selfish truth because I'm sure that if all of the food in the Capitol was collected and spread throughout the Districts they could make it last a year at least.

I sit down on the sofa on the opposite side of the room and sigh. "Why is everything so messed up?"

"This country has been fucked up for a long time now, Princess." He sits down next to me and I pull one of his hands in mine and begin to trace the contours and scars with my forefinger.

"I suppose what's happening is the right thing though, isn't it?" I ask, frowning.

"Yeah" He replies plainly and I go back to drawing lines on his hands.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before I look at my watch and jump up immediately, pulling Haymitch up with me. "We're off schedule," I announce but Haymitch just laughs from beside me though I don't see how it is a laughing matter. Not being punctual is the height of bad manners.

"Well, if we're already off then it doesn't matter if we knock off a few extra minutes…" he purrs in my ear suggestively, snaking his arms round my waist and I almost give in to temptation but realise that I have a job to do, an important job.

Nonetheless I decide to put my lips just a matter of centimetres from his. "Then we will be off by even longer. You know I like to be on time."

With that I begin to head towards the front door but stop in my tracks when his hand hits my backside. I try and raise my eyebrows sternly but just end up smiling instead.

He opens the door and goes to leave but I push past him. "Ladies first," I say still smiling and he shakes his head.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

* * *

**A/N: Well there you go! I'm sorry I sort of skipped quite a lot of time in this chapter and it's not my best by far but I hope that you guys liked it anyway. I would've updated sooner but I had my injections at school today and am finding it quite hard to type seen as I had one in each arm :( Anyway, please continue to review and continue giving me the absolutely awesome feedback and I will be back soon with chapter 17!**

**~H x**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry that I haven't updated as quickly as I would've liked to but I've had a really crappy day at school and I think that writing some fanfiction will make me feel better :) so here is chapter 17!**

* * *

Judging by the look on her face, I would say that Katniss is just about sick of trying on wedding dresses.

Everyone is trying to keep her spirits up by complimenting her on her appearance and telling her just how gorgeous she looks which most definitely is not a lie. She looks absolutely stunning and I can't help but envy her natural beauty. I'm relieved that Haymitch told the Capitol that under no circumstances should she have any alterations, it would've completely ruined her and she would've absolutely hated them. Haymitch.

I look over my shoulder and see him slumped in a chair at the back of the room with a glass of liquor dangling limply over the arm of the chair. He seems completely caught up in his own world, only looking up when Katniss returns in a new dress and even that seems extremely disinteresting to him. I don't feel bad for dragging him here, after all, he has said in the past that he thinks of Katniss and Peeta like his own children so I think it only fitting that he is here on such a momentous occasion.

Peeta isn't here; it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding after all. A wedding that is non-existent as of yet.

I stop scrawling notes on my schedule and look up as Katniss steps into the room wearing the silk dress that I fell in love with in Cinna's design studio. She occasionally fidgets with it and I send her a glare across the room.

"Doesn't she look wonderful?" I say excitedly and take a step back towards Haymitch, only to receive a grunt in return.

I sigh and roll my eyes. "You could at least pretend to be happy for them."

"Why?" he asks, more fixated on the rim of his glass than on me.

"Well, because it will be the happiest day of their lives."

"No it won't. This was Katniss' idea, Peeta doesn't want this. Well, of course he does but hell – not like this."

He's right, the night of the party at the Presidents mansion; he had taken me up on the roof and explained everything. The wedding was Katniss' idea to stop the president from breathing down her neck about her 'cousin' Gale Hawthorne.

I reach over and take the almost empty glass from Haymitch and he gives me an irritated look. "No more of this for you today." I say and walk towards the kitchen, he soon follows.

I take a small sip and pour the rest down the sink much to Haymitch's disapproval.

"What the fuck, sweetheart?"

I tut, "Language, Haymitch. I think Katniss is finding it hard enough today without having to deal with her drunken former mentor."

He mutters something uncouth under his breath and I follow him back into the living room.

We watch the rest of the photo shoot in silence apart from when I tell Katniss to stop fiddling with her hair which, I assure her, looks very pretty. She however, still seems unconvinced.

Once all of the photos have been taken and Katniss is back in her simplistic element, Haymitch and I are handed the camera and instructed to select the photos that will be used for the public vote. I usher everyone out of Katniss' house to give the girl some peace after such a long day.

Haymitch and I head back to his house to sort through the photos which I can see will be a very trying and lengthy experience.

I immediately slip off my shoes upon arrival losing four inches and collapse on the sofa. I see that the fire has been lit and there is a basket of freshly baked bread on the coffee table so I figure that Peeta must have come round while we were out.

"How long is this going to take?" Asks Haymitch slumping down next to me.

"Well, it's not going to be over in five minutes. Shall we get started?"

We have a system worked out. If he helps me for five minutes then he can have a glass of liquor but if he complains, I get it. Since we have just over sixty photos to sort through, I end up drinking the most out of the two of us.

"I swear this is blackmail." Haymitch mutters under his breath.

"No, it's called a compromise. It's to stop you from getting wasted." I say though at this point in time I am far from steady.

"Sweetheart, _you're_ getting wasted."

"That counts as a complaint." I hold out my empty glass and he looks at me as if I have just lost my mind.

"You can have some water; you need to sober up… Actually no, put your coat on you need to be at the train in-" he looks at the clock "- Shit, five minutes. Come on" he attempts to get me to stand up but I slap his hand away.

"I'm not finished and neither are you. I was instructed not to leave until I am finished." I try to sound stern but I end up trailing off towards the end of the sentence.

"That's a lie. Don't make me carry you."

"Don't you dare-Haymitch!" I yell at him as he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder like some sort of sack of flour. I manage to grab onto the end of the banister hard enough for him to stop moving.

"Please put me down." I moan into his shoulder and he obliges.

"Sweetheart, if I don't get you back to the Capitol on time it's going to be my head-" he continues talking but all I can concentrate on is the nausea slowly building up from my stomach. My legs react before my mind has time to and I sprint to one of the bathrooms. I get there just in time before I throw up an appetizing mix of bread, alcohol and breakfast.

I sit down by the side of the toilet and out of the corner of my eye I see Haymitch leaning on the doorframe wearing that infuriating smirk of his.

"Well this is an interesting role reversal."

"Shut up, Haymitch. You're lucky that wasn't down your back." He chuckles and I want to throw something at him.

"Come on, I'll take you to bed." He helps me up off the floor and takes me into one of the spare bedrooms. The same one I dressed in the last time I was here.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and he leaves the room without a word. I'm about to shout at him when he returns with an extra pillow and a damp washcloth.

"Why are you taking care of me?" I ask while he places the pillow on top of the one that is already at the top of the bed.

"Because I don't particularly want you to choke on your own vomit in your sleep."

I smile at this. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

He chuckles and begins wiping the makeup from my face successfully brushing off the comment all together. Only when he finishes does he look me in the eye.

"Well, you've successfully missed your train. Do you want me to phone the others?" I nod and so does he. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." I say plainly and he smirks.

"Get some sleep." He says this, gets up and walks out of the room closing the door behind him softly.

I'm oddly disappointed by this and huff as I take off the thin jacket that offered nothing but appeal to the eye. He could've at least offered to stay until I was asleep but I suppose I must be grateful for what little comfort I receive.

I crawl into the covers having removed everything but my underwear and lie for a moment staring at the ceiling in the dark, revelling in the quiet that cannot be found in the Capitol.

I'm not sure if it's the remaining alcohol in my system or the tiredness that pulls me under first but either way, I fall into a long, deep and dreamless sleep and the best night's rest I've had in the past few weeks.

When I wake, I can tell by the light streaming in through the open curtains that it is mid-morning and the first thing I notice is a glass of water and a little red pill on the bedside table which I waste no time in taking.

I get out of bed almost instantaneously, knowing that the best cure for a hangover in my books is to get up and get on.

I pull my clothes off the floor and frown when I realise that they have been screwed up all night. It's a good thing Haymitch couldn't care less about my appearance. As I get dressed in the previous day's clothes, I realise that I don't have any makeup with me and feel as if I could die right there on the spot. I just _had_ to throw up… I could be home right now in clean clothes looking relatively presentable.

After I have made myself look as satisfactory as possible considering the circumstances, I head downstairs and find no form of life other than myself.

"Haymitch?" I call out and he appears out of the kitchen, bottle in hand.

"Starting early I see."

"You do know what day it is today right or has that alcohol done something to your brain?" I try to rack my brain for the date. I want to hit myself when I realise what today is. Today they will announce the third Quarter Quell.

"Oh my God, Haymitch, I'm sorry-" He waves his hand dismissively but I can see the pain behind eyes.

There is an awkward pause as he goes to sit down on the sofa but eventually I speak, "Did you speak to someone last night regarding my whereabouts?"

"Yes, I spoke to Portia who didn't take the news too lightly. I think I am still partially deaf in one ear, I'm beginning to think that all you Capitol ladies do is shout." I send him a glare but he doesn't see it, much to my annoyance.

"Did she say anything about how I was going to get home?"

"Oh yeah," I roll my eyes "she said that she was gonna speak to someone about it and that there would be a train waiting in the station."

"Thank you, Haymitch. For everything."

"No problem, Princess. S'pose it's just payback anyway for all the times you've dealt with me."

I'm not too sure how to respond to this so I just kiss him on the cheek, bid him goodbye and leave for the train station not forgetting to take the camera and my notes with me.

The journey is shorter than normal which I am glad for considering that it is just me on the train. I can't help but notice that we skip districts four, seven, eight and eleven altogether. Maybe this is where the uprisings are or the uncontrollable ones anyway.

By the time I arrive back in the Capitol it is about two in the afternoon but already people are beginning to wait around by the large screens dotted around various locations for tonight's announcement. The crowd will also get the first look at Katniss' wedding dresses which reminds me, I need to inform Cinna on the final decisions.

He is glad to see that I am back, whether that is because he needed the photos quickly or whether he was concerned for my whereabouts. Probably both because it's Cinna.

I get to my apartment within the hour, with much difficulty as the streets are thickly lined as they are on the first day of the Games.

Home comes as a welcome sight and I am just about to change out of the day old clothes when I smell something odd. It smells so sickly sweet that I think the contents of my stomach might make a reappearance as it did yesterday.

I follow the smell into the living room until it almost becomes unbearable and that's when I see it.

A small envelope made with delicate looking deep red paper leaning against a small white rose bud.

* * *

**A/N: Again guys, sorry for the lateness but I've been preparing for A LOT of controlled assessments coming in the next few weeks. Also, the first draft I did of this chapter I really didn't like so that is another excuse for my appalling lateness :P Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it and I will try and update relatively quickly seen as it is one hell of a cliffhanger ;) Continue to review and generally be the amazing people you are and I will see you in chapter 18!**

**~H x**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm quite happy with the timing of this chapter but I would've updated sooner if my internet didn't take ten minutes to load because of our crappy connection :( Anyway, I will stop rambling and let you read the next chapter! (I'm sorry it's not the best by far)**

* * *

My heart sinks to the floor as I pick up the small envelope, hesitating to open it. I try to imagine it's just a birthday card but even that doesn't motivate me to open the envelope.

_No, snap out of it. _I rip open the top in the most unladylike fashion and pull out the small piece of gold-gilded card inside.

_You are required to attend a meeting with the President Corilanus Snow. Please be at the Mansion at exactly Four PM today and an attendant will direct you to where you need to go next. Attendance is mandatory._

I gasp audibly and the piece of card flutters delicately to the floor. He knows, he knows, he knows.

I sit down on the sofa and put my head in my hands, trying to think of a rational explanation and failing miserably. It could just be about the Quell or about me leaving me job.

The thought gives me a little comfort until I realise that I am probably wrong, I know exactly why he wants to see me and I curse myself inwardly for letting it continue all this time. We should've stopped it at an accidental kiss at a party, we were stupid to let it go this far. All the more reason to stop now, I suppose.

_Right, four o clock. _I glance at the clock and see that I have twenty-five minutes before my impending castigation.

It will only take me about fifteen but I feel like walking slowly for a change so I set off early.

The crowd has got worse around the large screens and some people are even setting out deck chairs and picnic cloths. I was given the opportunity to watch the announcement with all of the other Escorts and stylists but declined needing my pyjamas and a glass of red wine rather than a room full of cheering people. Personally, I don't really see all of the fuss. It is just another Hunger Games, another twenty-four families lives ruined. Another two children's deaths on my hands.

* * *

"Please take a seat; he will see you in a minute."

Anyone looking in from a distance would think I was here for a job interview rather than an inevitable third degree.

A woman with blue hair done in a complicated up-do sits tapping on her computer keyboard for what seems like an eternity before a peacekeeper enters from a dark wooden door and asks me to come with him.

He leads me down a lengthy, ornate looking corridor, the sound of my high heels reverberating across the marble and the walls at a deafening level. He stops in front of a heavy looking door like the one before and motions for me to enter.

I stop for a moment to regain my composure and brush my now sweaty palms on my skirt before I push open the door and walk into a room that smells just as my apartment did.

I stand awkwardly at the end of the room for a moment as he doesn't seem to notice my presence so I clear my throat and he turns around, still at his place by the window.

"Ah, Ms Trinket, I'm so happy that you could make it today. Please, take a seat."

I do so and he does likewise behind the pine desk. He looks different than how he does when he makes public broadcasts, older and more worn. His voice still holds its tenacity and determination that, considering his age, one has to admire.

"You'll have to forgive me for I was simply looking out on the city; after all it is very beautiful. Don't you agree?"

I nod and wring my hands together nervously at the innocence of the questions. Surely I cannot be here to discuss the architecture of the Capitol.

"Quite the jewel in the crown of Panem." He resumes his place by the window and I wonder if it is beyond this man's capability to stay still. "It is such a shame that its shine must be tarnished by all of the outer lying Districts."

He sighs and takes the rose out of his lapel, studying its delicate petals. "Full of underdogs, full of men, women and children all desperately crying for change. Full of men like Haymitch Abernathy." On his name, he looks up from the rose and crosses the room so he is back behind the desk.

"Now then, I would much prefer it if I could cut to the chase. But firstly, could you agree to do something for me?"

I nod numbly, "Yes sir."

"Could you promise to tell me the truth?" again I nod and he smiles tightly. "Good. Now, I like many of your colleagues last night were concerned for your whereabouts. Where were you?"

"I was in Twelve, it was late and I had had too much to drink so Haymitch said I could stay and I did." I reply flatly my eyes set on some glass sky rise outside the window. I'm not sure why I gave him an answer, he doesn't deserve one.

He chuckles dryly. "Well I suppose it is true what people say, spend enough time with somebody and they begin to rub off on you." He pauses for a moment as if waiting for a response. "I have a question for you, Ms Trinket. Why have _him_ when you can have anyone you want? Why have the crude, brash, drunk man from District Twelve, why break the law for something so senseless?"

Again, he expects an answer but I don't give him one. I don't know, why am I doing this? I have run the question through my mind on numerous occasions but never once have I found the answer.

"Did you think it could be kept a secret? Hidden away, behind closed doors? You have broken the law and I only hope you know the severity of your crime." He now speaks with a conviction that makes me start with every word.

"You wonder why I haven't stepped in by now. It is because I wanted to see if you could deal with this lechery yourselves, but I see that you are both incapable of doing so. Now, I am not one renowned to have a cruel heart,"

I almost laugh out loud at this but manage to contain my amusement.

"So, I am willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself but I have some rules you will have to follow in order to do so. Firstly, you cut all contact with him. You do not speak to him, you do not pay unauthorised visits to Twelve to see him, you may only confer on business terms and know that every phone call and conversation will be closely monitored so for the sake of yourself, do not try anything."

My breath catches in my throat as he explains his first incongruous rule. I am not allowed to speak or see Haymitch except on closely observed business. I won't even be able to tell him about this meeting or anything else anymore for that matter.

"Secondly, prove your loyalty to the Capitol and to me. Stay on as Escort after the Quell-"

"How long for?" I ask urgently. I can't do this job anymore, I refuse but how can I? What will he do if I say no? Throw me in jail or even kill me? Well, maybe killing me would be a little extreme but then again, he does send twenty-four children to death on an annual basis.

"However long it takes for you to renounce your crime." He takes a silver pocket watch from his waistcoat and takes a look at the time and returns to an eerily reposed demeanour. "Well, I think we shall leave it there for today. I have a television announcement to prepare for."

He doesn't have to prompt me to get up and leave. I am on my feet and heading for the door in a blink of an eye.

"Oh, and Ms Trinket," he says and I turn around not quite meeting his gaze. "Happy Quarter Quell… I don't think the odds are going to be in your favour this year."

This statement sends a chill down my spine and I take this as a cue to make a swift exit, finding myself almost running down the seemingly expanding corridor. I don't have to be scared of him; I shouldn't be scared of him. I just have to follow his rules however unreasonable they may be.

My subconscious takes over and I find myself back on the streets and I can't think about anything but his parting words. _I don't think the odds are going to be in your favour this year_.

What does that mean? Is he going to put me in the arena? I would laugh at the thought if I wasn't so God-damn petrified.

I get to my apartment as quickly as I can despite the thickly lined streets and hop into my shower straight away, hoping to rid myself of the sickly, unnatural smell of 'roses'.

When I get out of the bathroom, I see that I only have five minutes before the start of the announcement and so pull on a pair of pyjamas and grab a long awaited glass of wine before slumping down on the sofa and turning on the television.

I catch the end of Cinna's interview with Caesar Flickerman regarding Katniss' wedding dresses and watch as the crowd reacts to each different gown. Some of the audience are more reserved and give excited glances to whomever they are sat next to and then you have the ones that do just about anything to make themselves heard.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" Hollers Caesar and the crowd roar again. "Now then ladies and gentlemen, don't forget to stay tuned for our special announcement! That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

I can feel my heart rate quicken and I pull my legs up underneath me. The feed ends and is replaced by the seal of Panem momentarily before it cuts to an image of the President taking the stage. A young boy wearing a white suit stands behind him, holding a wooden box that contains all of the cards for the Quarter Quells. I don't really remember the reading for the second Quell but my mother had explained how the system worked to me and I have never forgotten.

The President rambles on about the Dark Days and the Quarter Quells but I'm not listening, my eyes are fixated on the small box. What will the card say? What will it mean for me?

I blink when the box is opened and bring my wine glass up to my lips, letting a steady stream pass my lips.

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell." President Snow takes the small envelope out of the box marked clearly with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and removes the card inside.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

I don't realise that my wine glass has shattered on the hard wooden floor and I bring both hands to my face. Tears obscure my vision but I still see it. The President gives a malicious smile and looks directly into the camera. I know that it is probably for Katniss but at the moment I feel as if it is for me.

I think of District Twelve. Katniss and Peeta's families must be absolutely distraught, they have only been back for a few months and already they are being ripped from their homes for a second time. Katniss' fate is inevitable – she will be going back into the arena but as for Peeta and Haymitch, that is all down to me now.

I can't do it and I won't, I won't choose between them. I care for both of them very dearly but no doubt if I do draw Haymitch's name, Peeta will volunteer in his place. What if I draw Peeta's name? Will Haymitch volunteer to sacrifice his own life for one whose life hasn't really begun?

Part of me feels as if I should phone Haymitch but he will probably be in no fit state to speak to me so I decide to leave it. Besides, I would only be breaking one of the Presidents cretinous rules.

It is only when I'm cleaning broken shards of glass off the floor that I realise that the odds most definitely are not in my favour.

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**A/N: There ya go! Again, sorry it was borderline late but I have explained above that it is down to internet connections (not at all to do with the fact that I CAN'T STOP LISTENING TO COLDPLAY! Oh my goodness) Okay, I don't think that I have anything else to say except please, please, please continue to review; they really do mean the world to me :) I'll see you all in chapter 19!**

**Love you all millions! ~ H x**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hi everyone, I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter but I have been feeling a little down recently and I have had this chapter written up on paper for a while and have only just bothered to type it up so I apologise for my laziness. Anyway, on with the chapter! P.s I apologise for the lack of hayffie in this chapter :(**

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The heat is insufferable.

Even from my place in the shade I can feel the sweat building up on my palms. So much so that I have to wipe them on my silk skirt and hope that it doesn't leave a mark.

This isn't like the normal Reaping's. The mayor isn't giving his usual speech on the Dark Days and origins of the Hunger Games and is instead seated on a chair at the opposite side of the stage to myself, occasionally fanning himself with his hat.

I don't feel nervous; I'm not at all sure what I feel to be perfectly honest. There is an almost constant feeling of nausea knotting around my stomach but it has been there for days now and comes in waves whenever I think of the victors.

Given the opportunity, I would gladly run away from the Reaping all together but my chances of escape would be fairly remote as there is what seems like hundreds of guards situated on rooftops of buildings, guns trained on the victors turn tributes and audience should someone step out of line.

The majority of the District has turned out to watch the event in a roped off section towards the back of the square, ladies fanning themselves with their hands and men's best shirts wilted in the blistering sun.

Aside from an occasional shuffle in the crowd, everything is eerily silent. The whole of Panem watches as the three lone victors from District Twelve are put at risk once again.

This is it, the mayor nods his head as a signal for me to take to the stage and I do so with legs that feel as if they could give way at any minute.

The shade was positively cold in comparison to the exposure of the stage and I have to squint as I approach the looming glass bowls and microphone at the centre of the stage.

I pause and take a moment to clear my throat before I begin to speak.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to this, the Reaping of the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games or as many of you know it, the third Quarter Quell." My voice reverberates off the dilapidated buildings of the square and I try to smile but it probably comes out as more of a grimace as I am in no mood to be happy.

"Now then, as we are under a strict time limit today, I will get straight to the drawings. And as usual, ladies first."

I lack my usual enthusiasm as I totter over to the girls Reaping bowl and precariously reach my hand inside. I have to hold onto the side of the bowl and claw around in order to grasp the one small slip of paper that everyone knows has Katniss Everdeen's name written across it.

If it weren't for the severity of the situation, I'm fairly certain that Haymitch would be laughing at me but when I look towards the victors for the first time today, I see Peeta staring intently at the boys Reaping bowl as if by looking at it would somehow shatter it. Katniss is watching me as I try and catch her name and then you have Haymitch kicking up small clouds of dust, hands in pockets. Honestly! Has no one ever taught him about appearance in public?

I eventually grasp the piece of paper and cross over to the microphone, the sun glaring brutally into my eyes. I open the paper and take a breath before speaking.

"Katniss Everdeen."

Before I have even passed the first syllable, Katniss is already making her way up the stone steps to the stage. A peacekeeper tries to take hold of her arm but she tugs it away quite forcefully and continues to the middle of the stage.

I don't move from my spot to congratulate her as I did last year, after all, what's to congratulate?

Next I cross over to the boy's bowl, a wave of nausea hitting me full on. Now I have to choose between a boy I care for very dearly or a man that it think I've fallen in love with – No, I can't think like that, I won't think like that. He is a colleague, nothing more.

I reach into the bowl and manage to grasp a piece of paper relatively quickly until I realise I've grabbed both pieces. I drop one of them without thinking and hope that I have made the right choice. Is there a _right choice_? Either way I could end up losing someone I care for profoundly.

I walk back to the microphone, open it up and say the name before I have time to react.

"Haymitch Abernathy." I have said it fast enough for the small noise at the back of my throat not to be heard.

Haymitch takes a step out of the roped off section but Peeta quickly takes his place, making it perfectly clear that he volunteers.

I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding and I don't know if this has relieved me somewhat or if it has made me feel even worse.

Again, I don't congratulate him as I see no need to. I step backwards and let them shake hands, adding to the guilty feeling in my chest.

I don't even sign off with my habitual 'may the odds be ever in your favour'; I just want to get out of here as quickly as possible.

I take them into the Justice Building where we are met by one of the peacekeepers from the district. "New procedure," he says with a smile and I wonder what he means but then Katniss and Peeta are taken out of the back doors and straight to a car.

"What, no goodbyes?" I ask somewhat angry.

"No, ma'am."

"But they both have families and – and friends that they will want to say goodb-"

"I don't make the rules here."

I give him a look and I am about to chastise him for lack of manners but I feel a firm yet gentle press on the small of my back. "Leave it Effie." I don't have to turn around to know who it is. Great, he had to be here.

Haymitch sends a glower at the peacekeeper and we head out of the rear entrance and into a car. Good, I think, I couldn't bear the walk in silence.

The car journey seems shorter than usual, making it just that bit more bearable but I can't help but think how peculiar it feels to not have the dense crowd of citizens of Twelve lining the streets as we go. Have they all been sent home? I couldn't see why.

The whole two minutes are spent in a deafening silence and as soon as we pull up to the station, I am the first out of the car and am almost at the train before Haymitch has time to catch up. We are ushered on board by peacekeepers, the doors are shut promptly and the wheels begin to turn.

Peeta and Katniss both swan past me into one of the cars containing chairs, tables and enough food and drink to keep them going until dinner.

I look around for Haymitch but he too has disappeared and lord only knows where he is.

I go straight to my compartment that is thankfully air conditioned. I suppose now would be a good time to curl up and cry but I don't. I am beyond sadness. I'm just…numb.

I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, the side nearest the window, and watch as District Twelve fades away.

I'm fairly certain that making Katniss and Peeta leave without goodbyes was President Snow's idea. He knew that by doing so, he would destroy them both from the inside-out, Katniss particularly.

I think back to her little sister and all the kindness she showed me when really I deserved none of it. She should hate me; at least if she did I would have one less thing to feel bad about.

I deserve to pay for all the lives I have taken away, all the families I have torn apart and that is something that I will take with me to my grave. I deserve to die.

I try to think how different things would have been if I hadn't drawn Prim's name last year. Katniss' family would still be living a normal life- they would be starving, yes, but starving is better than this. Anything is better than this.

Peeta would be dead, no question about it. If Cato hadn't killed him, he would've died from the infection in his leg with no Katniss to help him.

Maybe it would be better if they had both died in the first arena – as horrible as it sounds – but it would mean that they wouldn't have to go through it all again. Once is quite enough.

The tinkling of the crystal chandelier above my head as we round a bend brings me out of my thoughts and I see that the room is dark. I switch on the bedside lamp, look at the clock and, seeing that it is time for dinner, smooth out my skirt and head promptly down the corridor.

I knock on both Katniss and Peeta's doors but since neither answer, I have to presume they are either ignoring me or are already at the table. When I reach the dining car I see that the only people who have bothered to turn up are Haymitch and Peeta but soon after I have sat down, Katniss joins us.

The atmosphere around the table is repentant to say the least and the lengthy periods of silence are only interrupted by the servers bringing yet more food.

I am halfway through a lime and haddock fishcake when Peeta finally speaks up. "I love your new hair, Effie."

I look up from my plate and smile, though I am really in no mood to. "Thank you. I had it especially done to match Katniss' pin. I was thinking we might get you a golden ankle band and maybe find Haymitch a gold bracelet or something so we could all look like a team." Okay, maybe the last part was a bit of a stretch but seeing Haymitch wearing jewellery would be a site that not even the most serious person in Panem could resist laughing at.

"I think that's a great idea," chimes Peeta. "How about it, Haymitch?"

I switch my gaze to the other end of the table and see a very miserable looking Haymitch. "Yeah, whatever," he says as soberly as I've ever heard him. Come to think of it, Peeta did mention something over the phone about Haymitch going cold turkey for the training for the Quell but I didn't think it would last this long. He doesn't even have a glass of wine.

"Excuse me," I say to a passing server. "Could you possibly take this chardonnay away, it's not to my taste. Thank you."

Everyone round the table knows this is a lie, I've drained half a glass but considering Haymitch is making an effort, I decide that the last thing he needs is a distraction. Or maybe a distraction is exactly what he needs.

"Maybe we could get you a wig too," Katniss says with a grin and I let out an almost silent laugh at the mental image. A glare from Haymitch is enough to shut her up.

No one says anything after this and we all finish our desert in silence before regrouping in one of the cars with a television to watch the Reaping recaps.

From District One there are the radiant brother and sister duo, Cashmere and Gloss followed by Brutus and Enobaria from Two who apparently cannot wait to get back into the arena. Then we have the ladies choice Finnick Odair and his hysterical one true love Annie Cresta who is soon replaced by Mags, the octogenarian who needs a walking stick to get to the stage and probably won't last long.

Then there are the known morphling addicts, Ademia and Theron from Six who have to be pushed forward when their names are called because they are apparently too 'out of it' to realise what has just happened.

There are the memorable ones like Johanna Mason, the twenty-one year old victor from Seven who turned out to be quite the killer. Then Cecilia from Eight is called and her three children run up and cling to her. I sigh as I remember the conversation I had with her about the rising prices in babies' clothes in the Capitol. She was pregnant at the time and it must have been her second as her eldest looks to be about ten and it couldn't have been that long ago.

I don't recognise the tributes from Ten but then Seeder and Chaff are called from District Eleven. I glance over at Haymitch but his face is void of any emotion.

Then I call Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta volunteers and then somebody turns off the television.

Haymitch leaves the car without another word and I, after bidding goodnight to Katniss and Peeta, do likewise.

I don't go straight to bed; I need something to settle my stomach. I seek out a cup of tea and when I find one, I sit down in one of the chairs and sip it quietly.

My serenity is rudely interrupted as Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "You gonna tell me why you're in such a shit mood?"

"I don't think you are really one to talk Haymitch."

I take note of the wine bottle in his hand and sigh. "I see you're giving up on sobriety." I take a sip of tea.

"Yes, it's not to my taste." He gives me a look and I can't help but smile.

"I'm funny aren't I sweetheart?" he grins cockily as though he is impressed at his own joke and I roll my eyes, wiping the smile from my face.

"You're hysterical." I retort and he gasps.

"I thought sarcasm was a breach in etiquette." He strolls further into the room and I huff. He's trying to test me.

"And I thought that all that alcohol would've destroyed your liver by now but I suppose that makes me wrong as well, doesn't it." He clutches his chest in mock pain and I scowl, picking up my tea from the table and heading toward the door but he grabs my wrist, pulling me back and risking the tea spilling.

"You didn't answer my question." He sounds almost sober again and I yank my wrist free. I am about to ask him why he cares so much but I probably already know the answer.

"I'm just sad; it's been a hard day. For everyone." I try and leave but he speaks before I can.

"Let me rephrase that. Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm talking to you now aren't I?" he gives me an exasperated look.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Maybe I just didn't have anything to say."

I leave him with those words and head off to bed before I can do something stupid like kiss him.

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**A/N: Okayyy there we have it! Again, I apologise for the lack of fluff in this chapter but I really wanted to show the difficult side of their relationship because let's face it, it isn't easy (especially with President Snow and all) but there might be more in the next chapter, I'm not sure. Okay, here comes the nagging… pretty pretty please keep reviewing *puppy dog eyes* they really do mean everything to me so please keep on! If I could reach 100 reviews by the end of this story, I would be the happiest person on earth but that is all down to you now guys. Omg I hate nagging, I feel all horrible :( all that aside, let me know what you think and look out for chapter 20 (wow!)**

**~ H x **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm relatively okay with this chapter (plot/wording wise) but I'm sorry that it's late because I have SOOOOO MUCH homework and coursework and revision stuff that it is actually unreal… Okay, I don't think I have anything to say really so I will let you all get on with the reading :) HAPPY CHAPTER 20!**

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If looks could kill, I would be a goner.

Whenever I look up from my distasteful breakfast cereal that I could happily categorize as rabbit food, Haymitch is staring at me. Not directly at me, just in my general direction. If I was alone I would probably ask him what he wants but being in the company of others, I wouldn't want to make a scene.

I think I know what he's doing, he is a strategist and he's just trying to figure me out. He needs a way to find out whatever is bothering me or maybe just to confirm it, he's clever and probably figured it out already.

I will have to tell him at some point or anyone for that matter…but who? I have no one left on this earth to confide in. I have no family, well I have my mother. She's there but she's not there. Besides she would never have understood it anyway. It's times like these I wish my father's even, understanding voice was here to comfort me. But it's not.

We arrive at the Capitol little after ten which is good as I couldn't stand another minute on that damn train that having spent a large amount of time on in the past few months has become rather suffocating.

We are loaded into cars and then driven through the ecstatic crowds craning their necks to get a glimpse of their beloved victors and we just about reach the Training Centre in one piece as the crowds begin to subside and we are allowed inside.

Cinna, Portia and both prep teams are there to greet us all upon arrival and Katniss and Peeta are almost immediately whisked away by their three semi-professional stylists.

I don't know what's gotten into me but I immediately walk over to Portia and give her a hug.

"You okay?" she pulls away and I nod. "What's wrong?"

"Can I not give my best friend a hug?" I ask and she grins giving my hand a squeeze.

"Of course you can but you know you can talk to me anytime," she glances over in Haymitch's direction. "About anything, okay?"

I nod again. "Thank you Portia."

I lied when I said I didn't have a family. Portia is more like a sister than a friend to me; we have known each other forever and were practically joined at the hip all through high school.

She walks down the hallway with Cinna probably to go and check on the outfits for tonight or something. I move over to the small bar area and pour myself a glass of water.

"Christ, you really do have the hormones of a pregnant woman sweetheart," says Haymitch from his place on the sofa. "Nearly bit my damn head off last night then you're all sad and soppy this morning. Either you are pregnant or you have some serious PMS issues."

I turn around and face the window so that he can't see my expression. Could I be pregnant? No of course I couldn't be. I almost laugh at the thought but then I realise that it wouldn't be impossible, in fact it would be extremely possible. I begin to count back days, weeks, months and it wouldn't be completely inconceivable – no pun intended. Come to think of it, I have been feeling a bit off recently but that could be anything! Oh lord, what am I going to-?

I stop thinking and my hand flies to my stomach subconsciously. I felt something, I'm certain. It felt too real to be my mind. No, I'm just being paranoid.

"You're not pregnant are you? I don't think the world would be ready for another Effie Trinket running round causing chaos with 'manners' this and 'schedule' that."

How is he taking this so lightly? The likelihood is that he would be the father, the amount of times we've… so why is he so goddamn happy?! If this got out, I would be dead for sure along with Haymitch and most likely the baby. I'm being ridiculous! I. Am. Not. Pregnant.

I turn around and give him a look that says you're not funny but my gaze softens. "Haymitch I need to talk to you."

He leans back on the sofa and closes his eyes. "I'm all ears, sweetheart."

"Not here, somewhere… quiet." He knows I don't mean quiet, just somewhere no one could be listening.

He pushes himself up and motions for me to follow. I place the glass of water back down on the bar and follow him up the flight of glass stairs leading to the rooftop.

As soon as we are exposed to the outside, a cool breeze hits me making me sigh involuntarily. We stand by the metal railing separating a person from their thirteen story long demise which makes me feel rather uneasy.

"What is it?" he asks propping himself up with his elbow on the railing.

"Well, um-" I don't even know how to start. "A few months back, the day that I got home after I missed my train, the day of the Quarter Quell announcement, I received a note from the President asking me to attend a meeting. I thought it might be about the Quell but it wasn't. He knew the whole time, Haymitch, he knew exactly what was happening and he said that he would've done something but he wanted to see if we sorted it out but we didn't and-"

I trail off feeling tears spring to my eyes but I blink them back. I take a breath and continue but my voice still wavers. "And he told me to stay away from you and that I would have to stay on as Escort after this year to prove my loyalty and I can't, I can't do it anymore Haymitch. I don't know what to do. Help me, please."

Now I cry, hiccupping on every short breath. He puts his hands firmly on my shoulders and catches my gaze. "You just have to do what he says," I open my mouth to object but he keeps talking. "I know you don't want to but you have to. You won't have to do this much longer, believe me, just keep smiling and being you for a while okay, sweetheart?"

I nod letting a few more tears fall before squeezing my eyes closed firmly. I feel Haymitch's lips press gently against my forehead as he pulls me into his arms. Those warm, strong arms that I have come to associate with safety and content.

I bury my head into his shirt and listen to his heartbeat, slow and steady against his chest. It almost makes me forget everything, almost.

"What do you think would've happened if Katniss hadn't won last year? Who would've gone in instead?" the question is completely out of the blue but it's been milling around in my head for a while now.

"I don't know, I doubt the victors would've had to go back into the arena at all. The President wants her dead and this is the prime opportunity." He says and I nod, pulling myself out of his arms. "Saying that though, he wanted me dead for a long time after my Quell, eventually he gave up trying but I guess it's different, I didn't start a war. I wouldn't be surprised if the Reaping was rigged-"

"But surely he wants Peeta dead too, he is just as guilty as Katniss?"

"Peeta isn't a threat, Katniss is. It was Katniss who pulled out the berries, buried the girl in flowers, showed them up -Peeta just went along with it."

I sigh and hold onto the railing looking down at the people below. If Peeta had died last year in the arena, it would be Haymitch and Katniss going in together and the likely outcome would be that Twelve wouldn't have any victors left. I shake the thought from my head.

"We should probably go to lunch," says Haymitch pressing on the small of my back. I nod and we head down to meet the others.

There is only light conversation over lunch but even I don't say much. At one point Katniss asks about hers and Peeta's costumes for the Opening Ceremonies asking if they will be wearing headlamps or fire this year. He responds with, "Something along that line."

I instantly know that whatever it is he has planned will be spectacular but will it be dangerous also?

I suppose only time will tell.

* * *

"Haymitch will you hurry up! We are ten minutes late!"

"You were the one who told me to have a shower, sweetheart. The universe isn't going to implode if we are a few minutes late y'know." His voice grows louder as he opens the door to his room.

I smile as he steps out wearing a suit. He never wears a suit.

He returns a lop sided smile and I move to fix his tie but he bats my hand away. "I'm in a suit, that's all you're getting sweetheart."

"Why be in a suit if you're not going to wear it properly?" I chastise, putting my hands on my hips.

"It is on properly, just not how you like it obviously. Not my fault you're picky."

I huff. "Fine, let's go."

As I suspected, we are too late to get any seats to watch the parade, so we stand in the Remake Centre and wait for the chariots to come back.

"Effie!" I turn my head and see Maple Mae, the Escort for Seven, whom I happen to hate with a passion.

"Shit, I'm out." Says Haymitch as he saunters towards the bar.

"Haymitch don't leave me!" I hiss above the hum of conversation in the room but he chooses to ignore me.

"Effie dear, how nice to see you again!" Says Maple in that obnoxious sing-song voice of hers.

"Maple, you're looking well and lovely as ever," I say, smiling falsely.

"Oh you too Effie, I really am surprised they haven't promoted you yet. How many years have you been working for Twelve?" she cocks her head to the side and I have to bite back the urge to hit her.

"Enough," I laugh it off.

"Oh yes, I heard you're leaving after this year. Such a shame, but on the plus side at least you won't have to work with Haymitch Abernathy anymore-"

"He's really not that bad," I interject defensively but pull myself together and continue. "When he's not drinking that is."

"Well, yes, I suppose so." She says prudishly and I can't help but roll my eyes. "I'll see you again soon, I just have to go and see how Johanna and Blight have gotten along." She gives me a kiss on the cheek much to my displeasure and then totters off towards her chariot.

I figure I might as well meet everyone back up in the penthouse but when I go to leave I am stopped by an attendant who tells me "I am not permitted to leave at this time."

I sigh and stand by the exit until Haymitch turns up and we are allowed to leave.

Everyone is directed towards a given elevator and I can't help but laugh as Johanna Mason promptly tells one of the attendants to "go to hell" and joins Katniss and Peeta in their elevator, tossing part of her tree costume behind her.

"And I thought Katniss was strong willed," I say as Haymitch and I are directed towards an elevator. He just smirks.

I stand in the corner as the doors close and we begin moving.

"I hate elevators," I mutter and Haymitch gives me a look.

"Why?" he asks, perplexed and I shrug.

"Is it the thought of the cords snapping and you falling towards your death?"

"No," I shake my head and he grins again.

"Or is it the thought of being uncomfortably close to people?" he takes a step towards me and I take a step back. We continue until my back is against the mirrored wall, his face dangerously close to mine.

No, I can't kiss him again. Don't do it, don't do it. I think somewhere along the way I can't hear my brain anymore for my heart pounding hard against my ribcage.

"No, I'm not scared of that." I say quietly, my lips brushing his lightly as I talk.

"Good," and with that he presses his lips firmly against mine.

My mind screams one word over and over '_stop'_ but I don't. How can I? How can something so wrong feel so right? How could I have ever thought for a second that I would be able to stop myself once I'd started?

Only the ding of the elevator indicating that we are a matter of floors away, manages to stop me from kissing Haymitch and I put my hands on his chest to stop him from returning his lips to mine.

"We're nearly there," I whisper and he makes a noise.

"Damn," I can't help but laugh as I pull away making final checks to my wig and hastily wipe away any smudges of powder blue lipstick.

I have just enough time to smooth out my dress before the doors open. As much as I try to stop smiling, I can't.

Katniss and Peeta have just arrived by the looks of things as they step out of the adjacent elevator. Katniss heads towards the bedrooms but stops dead in her tracks and looks towards the end of the room at the two Avox's stationed in the corner. They both have the same striking red hair and piercing set of eyes, maybe they're related.

Haymitch has also stopped but in an instant is at Katniss' side and has hold of her wrist as if she is about to take off running towards the Avox or something.

"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year." I say brightly not really knowing how awful it sounds until it has passed my lips.

Katniss wrenches her hand away from Haymitch and storms down towards her old bedroom. I look back over to the Avox but he has disappeared.

"I'm just going to get cleaned up before dinner," says Peeta, excusing himself.

I look back to Haymitch. "Does Katniss know him?"

He an almost hallucinatory nod of the head. I'm puzzled, how could she know an Avox? What did he do?

"What did he do?" I think out loud and Haymitch takes a swig from his silver hipflask. I must have done something right as he answers me and not dismissively. He speaks in a hushed voice that is loud enough for me to hear but not for anyone in about a three meter radius.

"I told you about when Katniss' cousin was punished for hunting," He didn't but I nod anyway. "Yeah, well he got in the way, told the new head Peacekeeper that Gale had had enough, little did he know that that would be the last anyone would hear of him. Quite literally."

I exhale. "That's awful."

"That's the law," he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as if we weren't talking about someone's tongue being cut out or whatever it is they do to them.

"Did you know him well?"

"Well enough to know that Katniss was about to do something they would both regret." He saunters off to sit down on the sofa leaving me to meditate upon my thoughts.

This must have been deliberate, sending that young man here to work here for Katniss. Is this another of the Presidents plans? I can't help but feel somewhat guilty which is ridiculous; I had nothing to do with it but I have always turned a blind eye to Avox's, it was the way I was brought up. Only now do I realise just how awful it is, to have someone you know well -a friend perhaps- to never be able to speak again.

I look over and see that the table has been laid and food is already being piled onto silver plates like there is no tomorrow. Time to rally the troops as it were.

I knock on Peeta's door and he is quick to answer, his hair still damp from a shower. I knock on Katniss' door and surprise-surprise get no answer. Honestly, I will give up knocking if she is just going to ignore me.

Dinner is quiet yet again but not as solemn as it has been for the past few evenings. It is mainly filled with comments on the outfits for the chariot parade which unfortunately I did not get to see until they got back.

"Well from what I could hear, the crowd must have loved you." I say in the direction of the kids but Katniss, being the loquacious person that she is, ignores me again. Peeta swallows his food before speaking.

"Did you not get to see Effie?"

"No I didn't, at no fault of my own you understand. Your mentor was fighting a losing battle with me about wearing a tie and by the time we got down there, it was practically over." I can't help but throw a glance at Haymitch and he smiles acrimoniously in return.

"Well if Effie didn't make such a goddamn fuss over nothing then maybe we could've gotten down there on time." He replies and I scowl.

"Did no one ever teach you that it is rude to argue at the table?"

"Why are you telling me this, sweetheart?"

I open my mouth to reply but instead start as a dish is knocked to the floor.

In an instant, the male Avox has returned to clean up the spilt peas. Katniss also ducks under the table and I sigh.

"That isn't your job Katniss!" I scold and she subsides in helping him clean up.

We mostly remain silent throughout dinner, making the odd disconnected comment about this and that. We then move into the living room to watch the recap of the Parade.

I seat myself between Haymitch and Peeta and we all watch in silence as some old – some new victors ride down the Avenue of Tributes and towards the beginning of the end.

I have to stifle a laugh as some of the costumes this year truly are pitiful. Whether that is down to the stylists or the state of disrepair some of the older victors have fallen into, I shall never know.

Cinna and Portia have done it again – the outfits are black and fitted but resemble burning coals and embers in a fireplace and compliment the fading evening light perfectly.

As soon as it's over, Katniss stands and thanks Cinna and Portia and heads off to bed.

"Katniss dear, don't forget to meet early for breakfast tomorrow morning to work out your training strategy." I call after her and she nods, continuing down the hallway.

Peeta leaves us soon after and then so do I.

I dress in my nightclothes and sit down on the edge of the bed to wait. I need to wait until everyone has gone to sleep, or at least everyone bar one. I watch the sliver of light under the door disappear as the hallway lights are turned off for the evening. Perfect.

I go to my dresser and take out the small black box I have kept with me for a good few weeks now.

Holding it in the palm of my hand, I quietly open the door and seeing no one in the corridor, slip out and head to the farthest door.

The corridor isn't completely pitch dark and I can see a good few meters ahead of me before the flat wall beside me is swallowed up by darkness.

The light is still on in Haymitch's room much to my content. I don't bother knocking and push open the door.

Haymitch is stood by his dresser, a few pieces of paper in hand which he quickly places face down on the wooden surface. I step further into the room, the box behind my back.

"What are you doing here at this early hour princess?" he asks pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Happy Birthday!" I chime, holding out the box in my palm. He looks at it sceptically and goes to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"You remembered," he says sarcastically and I roll my eyes. "Sweetheart, you of all people should know that it isn't my birthday for months yet so what the hell is this?"

"I guess you'll have to open it and find out," I say brightly but yawn on the last word.

He eyes me suspiciously before taking the box and opening the lid.

"You can forget it, I'm not wearing jewellery." He says with finality in his tone.

I go and sit down next to him on the bed. "It's a very handsome bangle, Haymitch, it would complement your eyes perfectly." He snorts

"Since when have I cared about something complementing my eyes? It is a lovely gesture but I am not going to wear it."

I frown momentarily before realising that I have a backup plan. I lean in closer to his ear and whisper, "do you need motivation?"

I don't have to look to know he's wearing that signature sideways smirk of his. "Depends what it is."

I turn his head to face mine and press my lips gently to his. He responds immediately and turns his whole body to mine, wrapping a hand round the back of my neck and leaving the other just above my kneecap. He tastes like whisky and I can't say I don't like it.

I only remember that I was doing this for a reason when my silk dressing gown is discarded onto the floor. I open my eyes and see the box on the edge of the bed so make a move for it before it can fall off the mattress.

Haymitch continues to kiss my lips, neck and shoulders, blissfully unaware of my cunning plan. I pull out the gold bracelet and undo the clasp on the side one handed before positioning it just above his hand on my leg.

With a snap, the gold closes around his wrist and I smile triumphantly. I break the kiss immediately and toss my dressing gown over my shoulder. "Wonderful, now that it's on please don't take it off."

"What the hell?" he mumbles and I smile widely.

"I really didn't think you would be giving into temptation that easily, I must say I'm surprised!"

"Well if that's what I get for not wearing it, then I might just not wear it. And maybe next time I'll keep it out of reach."

I scowl at his licentious remark but quickly replace it with a bright smile.

"Goodnight Haymitch."

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**A/N: Eughh God, I hated that ending but hey ho, I couldn't think of anything else. Okay, again a million apologies for the 20 day gap between the chapters and I hope I have made up for it by the length (topping 4000 words! *claps to self*) I will apologise beforehand for the inevitable lateness of the next chapter as I have four exams coming up in May and June so I will be revising like CRAZY for the next few weeks but please! Don't give up on this fic! I love it and all of you way too much to stop writing. Anyway, I think that's all I really have to say except keep on reviewing, I would love to hear ideas and where you think this story will go and your opinions on chapters and whatnot. Okay I'm done so goodnight (or day depending on where you live) to all. See you all next chapter!**

**With more love than I can express ~ H x**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: *shifts around awkwardly* okay, I know I'm the worst author in the world and that I have been gone for forever but please find it in your shipper hearts to forgive me! /3 I have been busy recently as I have just had my exams so now that they're over, I should have more free time on my hands (whoop, whoop) so I will ****_TRY _****and update again either this week or next to make up on the lateness of the past few chapters. But anyhoo, you have waited long enough m'dears so here is chapter 21! **

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"Katniss, dining room – now!" is the first thing I hear when I wake up. I had almost forgotten how loud Haymitch can shout.

I sigh and throw my head back into the pillow. It is rare that I am the last person out of bed in the morning but today I feel drained both mentally and physically and I feel it a challenge to even swing my legs out of the side of the bed.

I meander over to the opposite side of the room and immediately recoil as I pull open the curtains suddenly becoming allergic to sunlight and sit down on the edge of my bed resting my elbows on my knees and my chin on my fists.

I sit and think of peculiar things for a while - an article I read in a paper a few weeks back, my mother and what colour lipstick I should wear today. I sit and procrastinate for what seems like an age but I snap out of it and realise that sitting in my bedroom all day would do myself nor anyone else any good whatsoever.

I settle on a cupreous tinted lipstick after much debate between that and a lovely silver shade – metallic is very in, you see – that goes perfectly with a deep green dress and of course my gold wig.

I must admit, I definitely feel better when I look better. The powder has done a wonderful job at concealing the bags under my eyes that have come from spending the last few nights tossing and turning instead of sleeping. I find rest eventually but not the heavy kind that my body and mind crave.

I head out of my bedroom, opening the door to whatever the day has to come and thoroughly wishing I was still wrapped in warm bed sheets instead of tight green organza.

I turn up just in time to see off Katniss and Peeta before their first day of training begins for the Quell, not that any of the victors really need it.

I am about to step into the elevator to take them both down as I did last year but Haymitch stops me. "Don't take them down this year; they don't need a babysitter sweetheart. They're the youngest victors down there, they need to look self-reliant."

I frown at his remark even though I know he is right. I settle for fussing over their hair, Katniss looks like she wants to bat my hand away but thankfully keeps her hands to herself. I press the button and smile contentedly as I have sent them off for a hopefully productive morning.

I sigh when I realise just how much I hate the training days when there is nothing for me to do. In my boredom I seek out Haymitch.

"Any word from potential sponsors yet?" I find him stood at the bar and he turns round suddenly.

"Jesus woman, you scared the shit out of me," he takes a breath before continuing. "And yes, I've had a few people enquire but nothing definite yet. Chaff reckons the takings are gonna go through the roof this time, more so than the last Quell."

"Understandable, what with the victors going back, they'll give everything they've got to keep their favourites alive." He nods in response and takes a sip from a glass of clear spirit.

"You watch – they'll be queuing round the block by this time next week for Peeta and Katniss."

"That's if they get a high score in training and don't do anything stupid." I say recalling the events from last year.

Haymitch snorts. "True, but I don't think it'll have a huge impact. Everyone has their minds made up nd besides-"

I tune Haymitch out as I begin to look around to see if there's a chair nearby, a sudden wave of nausea hitting me full on. I find an arm chair in the middle of the room and plonk myself down in it, feeling a small amount of relief from having the weight off my feet.

"Effie?" Haymitch snaps his fingers in front of my face and I blink.

"I'm sorry. What?" I ask drowsily returning my head to my palm.

"I said 'have you heard anything' and Christ, what 'smatter with you this morning? Has Princess been starting early?" He taps his glass for emphasis and I glare at him as he slumps down in a chair opposite.

"No, I just feel odd today." I put my hand on my stomach and begin to rub it round in a circular pattern in an attempt to soothe the internal churning. Haymitch looks disinterested and goes back to his alcohol. "And no to your previous question, I have not heard anything yet."

I smile to myself, a sudden thought occupying my mind.

"What?" asks Haymitch from the opposite end of the room, taking a sip of liquor.

"I was just thinking how nice it is that you're actually trying this year."

"Ouch."

I tut, "Oh come on Haymitch, of all the years I have worked with you I have only ever seen one sliver of hope and genuine work ethic from you. That was last year. Usually you take one look at the tributes and dismiss them completely. Why is that?"

"You of all people should know the answer – we're not meant to get attached. And besides, hope is over-rated."

"I just wish you weren't so cynical, my father once told me that it is often in the darkest skies that we see the brightest of stars. I think District Twelve is the prime example of that, they have three wonderful victors all of whom were considered underdogs until their crowning glories."

"That was very proverbial of you, sweetheart." He says, lacking in his usual sarcasm.

"I know." I smile proudly to myself and look down to my hands neatly folded in my lap.

"Hardly glory, though. You're still treated like shit and passed around the Capitol like some shiny new toy but I guess that's really all you are."

I know now that he is speaking of himself only. Pain flickers across his face and he clutches his glass tightly, probably trapped in some harrowing memory.

I speak from experience when I say that it is best not to interrupt his train of thought in this instance but I cannot help myself when I reach across the small space between us and place my hand atop his.

He remains in thought for a few more moments before turning his attention first to our hands and then to my face. I offer a meek smile but he does not return it, only inhales sharply before rising to presumably refill his glass.

Whenever he does have a moment like that, it only makes me more curious to know exactly what has happened to him –aside from his games of course. He very much keeps his pain and memories to himself and from time to time I really wish he wouldn't. I know better than to ask him about it–lord only knows what would happen if I did– and I suppose that if he wants to tell me he will.

Haymitch wanders back to his chair with, as expected, another glass of whatever he is drinking.

I kick off my shoes and tuck my legs underneath me but it only makes the queasiness worse. I huff and put my feet back on the floor. Haymitch sends me an odd look from the other end of the room probably thinking I have some odd branch of ADHD.

I feel restless now, like all I need to do is move around. I stand up and slip my shoes back on making an unnecessary trip to the bar to get a glass of water – again, no relief.

I lean against the wall and sigh placing my hand on my stomach, lifting the glass to my lips and letting a steady stream of water pass through. I feel it run down my throat all the way to my stomach and it only takes me a matter of seconds to realise what is going to happen next.

Moments later I am hunched over a toilet bowl emptying the contents of my stomach, made up mostly of bile. When I finish heaving, I slump down next to the toilet taking a moment to recollect my thoughts.

I see Haymitch lean against the door frame as he did not too long ago. He looks as if he is about to make some witty remark but before he has the chance I stop him.

"Don't. Say. Anything."

He smirks and throws his hands up in the air in mock defeat. "Did I speak, sweetheart?"

"You just did." I mumble pulling myself up from the ground by the sink. I wash out my mouth, managing to rid myself of the sour taste.

"I need to talk to you." Haymitch knows what I mean by this having done it on so many occasions already in the past week.

We end up, yet again, in the rooftop garden, the air thick with humidity and insufferable heat. There is no breeze either as there has been the past few days creating a somewhat unsettling atmosphere.

I walk over to the edge of the building and place my hand on the railing and grip tightly, my knuckles turning white.

I half expect Haymitch to come out with some snide 'what is it this time?' or something along those lines but it doesn't come. He stands and waits for me to speak though I find it harder with each second to find the right words not that they will at all soften the blow.

"Haymitch, I think I'm pregnant."

Suddenly he looks as if he is the one about to vomit. He stands for a moment, eyes fixed on the mountains covered in yellow wildflowers letting the words process in his brain.

"Are- are you sure?" he clears his throat still probably in some form of shock.

"I'm not certain but I think-" I trail off, uncertain how to finish the sentence. "It was just what you said yesterday and something clicked, everything suddenly made sense."

None of us speak for a minute or two afterwards after all; I'm not entirely sure what _to_ say.

"Are you going to find out for sure?" he sounds distant still more like he would be dreading the outcome if it were 'positive' though the word would hold nothing positive at all.

"I don't know if I can. Either way someone's bound to find out and you of all people know how bad that would be."

"Yes I do." He nods in agreement still speaking quieter than usual. "Well, you're gonna have to do it at-"

"Yes I know," I snap and lean forward to look down at the street below. I sigh, "I'll do it tomorrow."

"You've changed your tune, sweetheart." He makes a light attempt at humour but neither of us laugh.

"I need to know." I say and exhale feeling a small amount of relief from sharing what's been on my mind all night.

"We'd better go back down, lunch'll be ready in a minute." Says Haymitch tiredly beginning towards the stairs leading back to the penthouse but I linger behind for a moment, drinking in the morning sun and dreading what will come tomorrow.

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**A/N: OH MY GOSH IT'S DONE! You have no idea how long I've wanted to write this end authors note for this chapter. Well, I hope all 1106 minutes of editing time have paid off but I'm not sure, what do you guys think? You will all be pleased to know that I have already written half of the next chapter so expect that sometime this week/weekend depending on how busy I get with school etc. Dear lord okay, I will stop there because I am tired and have spent all night on this so I think I will shut my laptop down before it overheats haha. Goodnight all! :) **

**Love you all heaps! ~ H x**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm pretty happy with the update time with this chapter :) see, you can rely on me haha anyway, I don't think I really have anything too important to say except for this chapters a biggie (plot wise) so yeah ;) I will say nothing else and let you get on with chapter 22!**

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"This shouldn't hurt too much," says the nurse brushing back a strand of violet hair behind her ear.

I turn my head away as she pushes the cool, thin needle into the skin of my inner elbow. I cringe at the thought of a blood test but she's right, it doesn't really hurt. Maybe that's because my mind is elsewhere.

I barely notice when she hands me a cotton wool ball to press against the injection site. I hold it in place with a shaky hand as she undoes the tie around my upper arm. I check that the small pin-prick is no longer bleeding before I pull down my sleeve over it.

I take a deep breath as she turns to dispose if the needle telling myself to calm down.

"So erm-" I clear my throat. "When will I be able to find out the results?"

The nurse lets out a small gentle laugh. "Goodness me, we are eager aren't we? Don't worry, we could get the results back today for you as there's no big queue at the minute. It should only take thirty minutes to an hour so if you would like to wait around-"

"Yes, that would be fine thank you."

She smiles. "Would you like anything to drink while you wait?"

For a moment I consider coming back with 'a hard liquor would be nice' but I'm not sure that is the best thing to say in an antenatal clinic. I don't even want to be here and am only doing this because if I don't I never will.

I shake my head and she stands and directs me towards a small waiting room at the front of the clinic. As much as I hate waiting, the only other alternative would be to go back to the Penthouse and spend the hour pacing the floor.

I sit myself down in a chair that is as far away from any other person in the room as possible. I look to my left and find a pile of magazines on a small glass table; I pick one up and begin to flick through the glossy pages.

There is page after page of interviews, photographs and betting odds for the upcoming Quarter Quell but I need just about anything to take my mind off the inevitable – no, probable.

There are countless pictures of Finnick Odair seemingly lacking in a covering for his upper half – honestly, does the man not own a shirt? I mean for lords' sake, the amount of times I've seen him wandering around the Capitol half naked is unreal. Not that I'm complaining of course.

I occupy myself with an article written about the 'star-crossed lovers of District Twelve' with numerous pictures from the Victory Tour and party at the president's mansion some of which I find myself in.

I emerge from my magazine after what seems like forever as my name is called. I feel my hands become slightly clammy at the prospect of what is happening next. I try not to show my nerves as I place the magazine back onto its original place on the table, stand up and smooth my skirt and walk into the consultation room.

The same purple haired nurse from before is seated behind her desk wearing a smile that could be visible from space. She's smiling, that can't be good. She gestures for me to sit after I close the door behind myself.

She sighs dreamily. "It is days like this when I just love my job. I have already informed three women that they are expecting today and you are the fourth!" she blurts it out all at once as if she cannot physically contain herself any longer.

"I'm sorry what?" I mutter before the words properly process in my brain.

"You're pregnant, congratulations! According to the test, you are already ten weeks along which is hard to tell just by looking but not to worry, different women vary and there is absolutely nothing wrong with the baby."

The reality hits me like a tonne of bricks and if I wasn't sat down I probably would've fainted. The nurse must be able to tell as she sends me a concerned look across the desk.

"Miss Trinket are you alright?" she speaks tentatively as if I am a bomb waiting to go off and to some point I probably am. "You know there are many different options available if you are not happy."

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine." I'm not fine, I'm anything but fine.

She offers a smile. "Just in shock then? Now, if you would like we could do an ultra sound scan today but if you are feeling like you have had enough news for one day then we could perhaps reschedule."

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Any time after the Games begin should be fine." I sound less hollow now like I am actually in the same room.

She spins in her seat to face her computer screen and what must be some sort of calendar, clicking her tongue as she does so. "How about the eighth?"

I nod and she pulls several forms for me to sign from the bottom drawer of her desk and I do so subconsciously as the news takes its sweet time to sink in.

Pregnant – a word I have thankfully never been able to associate with myself until now. In a matter of months I will have a baby that I will have no idea whatsoever how to look after. I am probably supposed to feel some unconditional love for the small life growing inside me but I don't, I feel nothing. I am not ready for a baby and I cannot be fully responsible for another life, I shouldn't even be allowed a child after all that I've done when so many good people cannot.

I am bought out of my thoughts as the nurse waves a hand in front of my face. I blink rapidly and force my eyes to focus again.

"Goodness me, we are in shock." She lets out that small laugh of hers. "Will you be alright getting home or do you require a-"

I don't let her finish which I know is extremely rude but manners are really the last thing on my mind at the moment. "No, I'm perfectly well thank you."

She looks unconvinced but nods anyway. "Well, I think that's all for today, just take these papers to the assistant at the front desk and she will file them accordingly. Just to confirm, you will have your eleven week scan on the eighth."

I nod as she hands me the several forms she had me sign. She leads me out of the room and into the entrance of the clinic.

She bids me goodbye and I make my way to the front desk where an attendant is seated typing away on the computer. He notices me almost straight away and takes my papers from me, doing a double take on seeing my name. I half expect him to say something but he doesn't and just keeps typing and filing the forms accordingly.

He reaches in one of the drawers, takes out a small yellow book and passes it across to me on the counter.

"These are your maternity notes; you can keep them at home but just remember to bring them to every appointment. Just to confirm, your twelve week scan will be on the eighth."

I nod for about the twentieth time today, I'd rather people just didn't speak to me about it all together but I know that I'm going to have to talk about it a lot more when I get back.

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The elevator doors open up to a seemingly empty Penthouse. Good – I can't face anyone right now. I place a bag containing a dress I saw on the way back on one of the side tables and sit down on the sofa, relishing in the peace and quiet.

I close my eyes for a moment before I hear voices coming behind me eliciting an exasperated groan from the back of my throat.

I connect one of the voices immediately with Haymitch and the other I am not so certain of so I turn in my seat and see none other than Plutarch Heavensbee.

I straighten up in my seat as they both enter the room, halting their conversation.

"Mr Heavensbee, how lovely to see you." I smile politely and he bows his head in return.

"And it is lovely to see you too. You're looking well, and please – call me Plutarch."

"Well, thank you very much Plutarch."

There is a slightly awkward pause where no one really knows what to say but Haymitch interrupts the silence. "Effie, do you mind getting out for a minute?"

I am about to reprimand him for manners but Plutarch speaks before I have chance to. "No, it's fine Haymitch. We will resume this another time, Miss Trinket looks as if she's been busy already and could do with taking the weight off her feet."

Haymitch looks as if he is about to object but relents. "Fine, just say when."

"I will do. Good afternoon both of you." With that he leaves Haymitch and I alone in the Penthouse.

"What were you talking about?"

"I think you should go first sweetheart, or have you spent the last two hours shopping?" he gestures to the bag on the table and I frown, avoiding his eyes as best I can.

He waits for me to answer but I don't. "Great, the silent treatment, and you call me the fucking child."

I'm not sure what posseses me to speak but now feels right somehow and the words come tumbling out all at once. I speak barely any louder than a whisper but I know he has heard me.

"Haymitch, I'm pregnant."

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**A/N: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Cliffhangerrrr ;) I know I'm evil but you haven't had one in a while! This chapter has (overall) taken me so long to write because I wasn't sure if I wanted Effie to be pregnant but my good friend Kara told me to do it so I took a risk! How do you think Haymitch will react to the news? Well, you'll have to wait and see in chapter 23 won't you? Please, please, please continue to review as it means the absolute world to me :) feel free to let me know if you have any ideas for upcoming chapters (especially for while Katniss and Peeta are in the arena!) and I will see you lovelies next time!**

**~H x**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Okay guys, this chapter is up a little later than anticipated but I've been feeling under the weather recently so I haven't really been in the mood to write but I'm better now :) I would just like to say THANK YOU sooooo much to everyone who reviewed in the past few weeks, especially nevisveli who left me four lovely reviews for earlier chapters and has got this story to 80 reviews (I'm so happy right now!) anyway, I'm rambling so on with the next chapter! (it was super fun to write!) **

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"Haymitch I'm pregnant."

It seems like an eternity before either of us speaks again. "I'm sorry what?"

I'm not sure what possesses me to but I smile to myself, possibly because that was exactly what I said when I first found out. "I said I'm pregnant. I'm having a baby." I know that he heard me the first time but somehow I find that saying it out loud helps me realise that it is really happening to me.

"And is it – is it mine?" he asks repugnantly as if the words are venom on his own tongue. I nod because I know it is.

He moves across the room and sits down in one of the chairs, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He occasionally glances up at me but neither of us says anything; we just stare at each other.

Without warning, Haymitch rises from his seat and strides towards the bar taking two bottles of liquor from the surface almost seamlessly and heading down the corridor to his room.

"Haymitch, believe it or not, this isn't something you can walk away from." I call after him.

"Fuck off, Trinket." I hear his door slam but I am nowhere near done. I walk down the corridor as if I have not just lost every ounce of self-confidence and push open his door with greater force than intended – that should teach him to use a lock.

He looks at me with tired eyes, already nearly finished with one bottle which I find absolutely astounding. "What part of 'fuck off Trinket' don't you understand?"

I ignore him completely. "It is not something you can drown in alcohol either." I make a grab for the bottle but he moves it away from my reach.

"I will do whatever the hell I want sweetheart, and if that means drinking until I pass out then so be it! In fact that sounds pretty good right now." He yells and I feel tears prick my eyes.

"Don't – don't you dare! This is equally your fault so don't try and pin all the blame on me! You're in this now whether you like it or not so for once in your life pull your head out of your own ass and look around. In – oh I don't know – six months' time I will have had or be having a baby that I have no clue how to look after, a baby that is half me and half you which is unchangeable. So please, for your own sake wake up and smell the fucking coffee!" I collapse in the nearest chair; feeling completely exhausted and put my head in my hands letting the tears that have been building up all day finally fall.

"I just – I don't know what to do. In my life, I've always had a plan and now I don't and it scares me." I mumble into my hands.

"Well you're the things mother, aren't you meant to decide?"

I bite my bottom lip to refrain from saying something I might regret so instead I come out with: "Yes, and you're the 'things' father," he flinches "I would appreciate some sort of input."

He stays silent. "Haymitch, all I'm saying is that I can't be responsible for another child's life or certainly death if that's what I was to choose. Especially not my own."

"Yeah but Eff's, you gotta think here. The President wasn't happy with us when we were sleeping together, think how he would be if he found out…you know - that."

I can probably make an educated guess. "It's just a baby, a little baby who hasn't had a chance in life before it's even started." I say it more to myself but Haymitch still replies.

"Doesn't mean shit sweetheart. It's us that'll get it, after all it is our fault but that's not to say that he wouldn't go after the kid as well, I know all too well what he's capable of." He looks pained and I frown, perching next to him on the edge of the bed.

"I just can't do this on my own."

"I know and I don't expect you to but I just have too much going on at the moment, this couldn't have happened at a worse time."

The statement leaves me irritated and feeling somewhat hurt. "Well I'm sorry that I couldn't have got pregnant at a more convenient time, it's not ideal for me either."

"Effie," he says exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, whatever you have to say I don't want to hear it. I'm not in the mood." I mutter folding my hands in my lap.

"And you think I am? To put up with one of your bitch fits I mean?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, shocked although I didn't really expect less from his reaction.

"You heard me loud and clear, sweetheart." He says bringing the bottle back to his lips. This time when I make a grab for it, I don't miss.

"Effie, give me the damn bottle!" Haymitch almost shouts trying to reach across me for the alcohol.

I stand up and cross the room to his dresser and take a glass from the top not really caring how long it's been there. "It's impolite not to offer your guest a drink," I say pouring myself a generous amount from the bottle and slamming it down with insistent force on the wood surface.

"Effie," he crosses the room "give that to me."

I shake my head bringing the glass up to my lips. Even after a few sips I can feel warmth spread through every inch of my body, the thoughts of a baby already beginning to dissolve. I don't drink much more than that before Haymitch takes the glass from my hands.

"Effie, you're pregnant. Get a damn grip." He reprimands me and I smile sardonically.

"You," I jab him in the chest "are a hypocrite, but at least it's nice to know you care." Again I smile but this time because I have caught him off guard. He looks to the ground, face flushed from anger.

"I don't care sweetheart; I really don't so if you want to go and get pissed out of your mind then you go ahead. Just know that from the bottom of my heart I really don't give a fuck." He intended to hurt me and it worked. I find myself on the brink of tears again.

"You know what's funny Haymitch? For a minute I actually thought that you would care about me and maybe even the baby but I suppose I was wrong. You really are heartless."

He laughs bitterly. "I don't think you should really be telling me that when you are the exact epitome of the word. You're like the pied piper, tearing children from their families – leading them to death. In my eyes you are equally as guilty as the _almighty_ President himself."

"Don't you dare say that, you know I had no choice." I hiss recalling when I told him about why I took the job in the first place.

"Yeah, well you have a choice now." He says with finality, obviously referring to the child, and with that he exits the room taking the bottle and glass with him.

* * *

In an hour or two Katniss and Peeta return and we all go to dinner. I spend most of the meal in silence having no great opportunity to speak but also, I don't really feel like talking.

"So have you… reconsidered who you want to team up with? I had yet more requests this morning." Asks Haymitch in between mouthfuls of potatoes and gravy.

"No," says Katniss plainly not bothering to turn her attention away from the lamb stew.

Haymitch puts down his fork quite forcefully on the side of the plate making me jump. "So you're telling me you want an octogenarian for an ally?"

"And District Three." She reminds him. He sighs exasperatedly.

"What about you Peeta? Have you had any more _sensible_ thoughts?"

Peeta shrugs. "I'll go with what Katniss says," he pauses and looks over at Haymitch who is clearly extremely displeased. "Though I suppose it would be helpful to have someone like Finnick on our side."

"Finally some decent judgement." Again he sighs but this time out of relief.

"Yes but maybe I don't want Finnick." Mumbles Katniss earning a glare from her mentor across the table.

"And why on earth wouldn't you want Finnick?"

She doesn't answer but instead goes back to running her finger round the rim of her empty bowl and licking the leftover stew from it – much to my distaste.

"You know what, I give up with all of you." He stands from the table, taking his drink with him. "Come and find me when you have reached a reasonable conclusion." He calls behind him.

Both Peeta and Katniss look to me as if asking me to either bring him back, sort him out or both of the above. I decide to do nothing other than enjoy the rest of my dinner in silence.

Shortly after dessert has been finished and cleared away, Katniss and Peeta disappear to lord only knows where leaving me practically alone in the penthouse aside from the probably intoxicated man I have no will to speak to. Unfortunately one of said man's many talents (aside from drinking) seemingly includes mind reading.

"Still pissed at me sweetheart?" he asks me from behind with a slight hint of snide amusement I can only associate with alcohol.

"What do you think?" I reply checking my reflection in the mirror as I walk past and down to my bedroom. He follows me.

"Even I'm not still pissed at you anymore."

"No, you're just pissed. And besides, I didn't say such awful things that brought you to tears." I didn't mean to say the last part. It makes me sound weak.

When I next look over at Haymitch, he looks guilty. "I didn't mean it." He says as an attempt of consolation.

"Of course you did otherwise why would you have said it?" I sit down in front of my mirror and begin to arrange various bottles and tubs on the dressing table surface. "Besides, it was all true."

Haymitch sits down on the edge of my bed and leans back on his elbows. "No it wasn't."

I roll my eyes. "If you would kindly stop contradicting me - yes it was and you know it. You were just shocked about the news of the baby that's understandable."

There it is – that strange pang of emotion that hits me whenever I think of or say the 'b' word, an emotion I have yet to place but one that makes me feel intensely guilty and yet distantly happy at the same time. _No,_ not happy - I'm not happy.

"Yeah but it's not excusable."

"Wait," I say "can I please record this or am I wrong in thinking that you are actually apologising?"

"Funny, Trinket."

There is a short period of silence as I finish rearranging my various facial products in time order as to when I use them at night. "I accept your apology." I finally say looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Did I say anything about apologising?" I glare at him and he relents. "Fine, I'm sorry."

I grin complacently and he huffs. "Don't look so smug sweetheart; it doesn't look good on you."

I can't help but laugh at the comment whether it was out of bitterness or that he had to ruin the moment with some snide remark. Haymitch and points at me.

"That on the other hand really does suit you. You should laugh more."

"I do believe you have told me that before," I say remembering the night on the train to Eleven.

"Yeah but you needed reminding."

I begin to wonder if he is drunk or genuinely sweet-talking me. Either way I feel a blush creep to my cheeks.

In the reflection, I see him stand and cross the room presumably to leave but again I am wrong. He stops just behind me and for no reason whatsoever leans down and places a soft kiss on my neck, just below my ear.

This takes me aback. He has never done that before, never kissed me unprovoked – though I'm definitely not complaining – and it brings on a whole new feeling which takes me barely any time to figure out that I like it.

Now he does go to leave as if he might think I don't want him but I do so I stop him. My hand finds his wrist brushing past solid gold as it does so. I smile as I realise he is still wearing the golden bangle. I stand and without having to say anything Haymitch kisses me again but this time square on the lips.

I desperately try to think. I feel like there is something to do – not that I want him to stop. I can't think of anything though… We can't be late for dinner because we already had it, and we can't have copious amounts of work to do because there is none.

_Oh well,_ I think as his hands and lips roam my body, _I will have to endure it_. I smile to myself. _That shouldn't be too difficult. _

* * *

**A/N: Okayyyy, I really don't know what the last part was so please kindly ignore it… I hope you enjoyed the chapter though :) it turned out longer than I thought it would be but I'm sure that none of you mind that ahaha! I am going on holiday for the next week or so to paris so I won't be able to update/write for a bit so I apologise for the probable lateness of the next chapter. Please, please, please keep on reviewing (they make me so happy!) and I will see you all next time! **

**~H x**


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